The Fifty Eight Days of Gomorrah
by Sanchica
Summary: After being Venger's prisoner for almost two months, Eric is finally rescued by his friends, only to be confronted by contradictory realizations as he recalls every day of his bittersweet torment. Rated for mature content.
1. Chapter 1

_IMPORTANT NOTES: This story was inspired by Shoysrock's "Sweet Pea" - if you haven't read it, please make yourself a favour and do it! _

_Please note that this story will have sexual mature content and issues that some people could consider offensive, such as rape, psychological abuse and mild sexual torture. If you don't like this kind of stories, now is the time to stop reading. _

_Also, I want to let clear that English is NOT my natural language, so expect some grammar mistakes._

_This is also very important: in my story all the characters are three years older than in the original TV show, meaning that Eric and Hank are 18 years old, Diana is 17, Sheila is 16, Presto is 15, and Bobby is 11. Uni is still a baby unicorn, though._

_And last, but not least, the title of this story was inspired, of course, by the novel "The 120 Days of Sodom" by Marquis de Sade._

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_DISCLAIMER: The Dungeons & Dragons TV series belongs to its respective owners. This is a work of fanfiction done for entertainment purposes only. I don't get any money for writing this._

**The Fifty Eight Days of Gomorrah**

**Chapter 1**

**Rescue?**

_Ten minutes… we only have ten minutes…_

Hank repeated to himself the same words as he ran through more and more narrow corridors. Almost two months of uninterrupted search had brought him and his friends there, to those ten minutes in which failure was an option none of them contemplated.

They had to find Eric and take him to the meeting point, in which Presto would teleport them out of Venger's castle. It had taken a lot of efforts to prepare the unique conditions that the teleportation spell needed, but they finally had done it, and Hank knew for sure that he would not fail. He would get out of that castle with Eric beside him, or he wouldn't get out at all.

"Hank, here," he heard Diana whispering from the corner of one corridor. "The dungeons are at the bottom of these stairs."

He headed toward the dark opening that leaded to the stairs, stopping Bobby by one arm when the boy tried to pass him, eager to be the one to rescue Eric. "Stay behind me, Bobby. We don't know what we're going to find."

"Let me go. I wanna kick Venger's ass!"

"Do as he says, Bobby," Sheila said. "Stay behind with me, and let Hank and Diana take care of everything."

"I definitely agree with that, guys," Presto said, shivering at every shadow that the creepy torches embedded in the wall created.

Hank had descended half of the flight of stairs when a delicate hand touched his forearm. He turned around and found the blue and caring eyes of his girlfriend.

"H…Hank?"

"What is it, Sheila?" he asked, seeing the fear in her eyes.

"Do you think… do you think Eric is…"

"He's alive," Hank stated firmly, himself being the first one he wanted to convince. "The Dungeon Master told us he has felt his life force several times. Eric has to be alive and we have to believe it. We'll get him out of here safe and sound."

Sheila smiled weakly. She was not the only one who had those fears. They all had heard stories about prisoners being tortured and killed in the dungeons of Venger's castle, but Hank had the hope that Eric had been spared because of his importance as a pupil of the Dungeon Master.

But no matter how prepared Hank had thought he was for that incursion, he wasn't ready for what he saw when he found Diana outside the last dungeon of the wet and dark corridor, her face distorted by horror as she was looking at whatever that was inside the door she had opened with her magical javelin.

Hank stood beside her and stopped in his tracks, as shocked as the Acrobat.

Behind them, Sheila groaned with anguish before covering her own mouth, hurrying to turn around and avoiding Bobby to reach the dungeon.

"What's going on? Is Eric there? How is he? I want to see him!" the young boy said, trying to pass his sister, but she wouldn't allow him to do so.

"Presto…" Sheila said, her voice broken. "Help Hank and Diana… I'll take Bobby to the other side of the corridor… Oh, Presto…"

Presto stared at her, already scared from whatever had made his friend react like that. When he reached the open door, Hank and Diana were already inside.

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Diana had always considered herself a strong and difficult to impress girl. Even before her arrival to the Realm, she had gone through difficult situations and was used to making fast and mature decisions. Her arrival to the Realm only strengthened such quality; she was used to facing deadly dangers every day, to witness things that would make any other human tremble in fear… but she was definitely _not_ ready to see Eric hanging naked from the ceiling, his wrists chained above his head and his penis stretched forward, tied with a thin rope to the base of a torch at the other side of the dungeon. Eric had his eyes closed, and there were stains of dry blood between his legs.

But Diana wasn't one to remain staring in shock at the horrible scene without doing anything. Forcing herself to remain calm, she used her magic javelin to free Eric from all his restraints with one single and precise movement. The nude body of the young Cavalier fell lax into Hank's arms, whose face was as shocked as Diana's but, also like her, was making a big effort to keep himself together.

"Presto, get Sheila's cloak, hurry!" Hank ordered, as he gently placed the head of his friend against his chest. "Eric… Eric, can you hear me? It's me, Hank… We are here, we came to rescue you. You are safe now, Eric…"

Diana crouched beside Hank, feeling a wave of rage and sadness crushing her throat. "Is he…?"

"He's alive," Hank said. "He has to be alive!"

As if he could feel the presence of his friends, Eric opened his eyes slowly. Opaque and tired brown eyes looked at Hank with extreme weakness.

"H-help… me…"

Hank grabbed Eric's hand and squeezed it. "We are here, Eric. We're getting you out, just hold on buddy."

Presto arrived with Sheila's cloak. Diana snatched it from his hands and placed it over Eric, covering his nudity.

"Oh my God… what… what happened to him…?" Presto stammered.

"He's getting out of here, that's what's happening," Hank said, standing up with Eric on his arms. "Are you ready for the teleportation spell, Presto? We need to leave now!"

"Ah… I… I don't know if I can do it again…"

Diana put her hands on Presto's shoulders, her grip firm and assertive. "Get that spell ready now, Presto! Eric needs medical attention as soon as possible! We are all going to the meeting point now, and you will get us out of here. You can do it."

Presto bit his lips and nodded gravely, forcing himself to be strong. As he removed his magical hat from his head and prepared to perform the most difficult spell of his life, he realized that all his friends would have to be very strong now, neither of them prepared to deal with what whatever was yet to come. Nothing would be the same after that day, nothing.

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_DAY ONE_

If anything, Eric was an expert in the art of whimpering. He didn't remember having cried so loud or having struggled as hard as he was doing it in that moment, in which he was being dragged by two Orcs through what it had to be Venger's castle.

His discouraging surroundings didn't help either. The corridors were too narrow and dark, the few scattered torches creating demoniacal shadows on his captors, the smell of humidity and mud as welcoming as a death sentence…

_Death?_

Eric renewed his screams, realizing that maybe that was waiting for him. Without his friends or at least the Dungeon Master to save him, he was doomed, utterly doomed… He didn't even have his shield anymore, taken away from him by the Orcs during the moment of his capture. His precious weapon was certainly in Venger's hands by now.

Venger… now that was a name that absolutely terrified him. If seeing him in the distance during the battles was enough to put the young Cavalier at the edge of a heart attack, he didn't want to even consider what it would be to face the arch mage alone, and without his shield to protect him…

Submerged in his fears, Eric arrived to the end of his journey, or that was what he assumed when the two Orcs threw him violently inside a dungeon. He fell on his knees and immediately crawled to the nearest corner, embracing his legs in fear. It had come… the moment of his death. Impossible to know what kind of tortures those beasts had in mind for him…

But the Orcs didn't pay any further attention to him and closed the door. From the small opening at the upper part of the door, Eric could see their shadows disappearing, illuminated by the trembling light of a near torch.

His heart started to decrease its frenetic beats a little, although his fear didn't do the same thing. He was a prisoner in one of Venger's dungeons and that was the worst thing that could happen to anybody in the Realm. He just hoped that his friends would hurry up and rescue him, or at least that bald Dungeon Master… It was cold and wet in that dungeon, not a single trace of a blanket and certainly no water or food… He didn't know how much he would be able to resist under those circumstances.

Eric removed his cape and wrapped it around his body, resting his back against the wall and placing his forehead on his knees. He spent several minutes in that position, he couldn't have known how many because at some point he began to fall asleep, lulled by the silence and calm around him but mostly by the narcotic effect of his own fear.

If he was already asleep, he didn't know. All that he suddenly knew was that he wasn't alone anymore. He had his eyes closed, he couldn't hear a thing, but he was completely sure there was somebody else in the cell. He could feel the presence as much as he could feel the coldness around him.

Eric dared to lift his head, but he saw nothing. The dungeon was as lonely as before, only the sound of some distant dripping water could be heard. Which reminded him that he was thirsty. Damn Orcs… if at least they would have given him a Ginger Ale or something. It was amazing how Eric had been almost three years in the Realm now, but he still missed dearly every single luxury he had had in his previous wealthy life.

He sighed and returned to resting his head on his knees, only to immediately lift it again. It hadn't been as clear as to define it as a sound, but damn, he had heard something, felt something…

And then he saw them, two crimson orbs at the other side of the dungeon, shining as fire between the darkness.

"W-who… who is it?" Eric stammered, his hands beginning to shake against his legs.

They looked like the eyes of a cat… no, a devil would be more proper… and Eric wasn't that mistaken.

The unmistakable sound of wings flapping, a tall and imposing figure coming out of the shadows…

_Oh shit, oh shit, oh double shit…_

Eric actually tried to penetrate the wall behind him as the shadow of his worst nightmare towered him.

"Pleasant night, Cavalier. I hope you find your accommodations comfortable."

Ah fuck… how he hated that voice, how creepy it was, just as those sharp and horrible wings, just as that white and perverse face…

"Has a spell paralyzed your tongue, Cavalier?" Venger continued, taking a step forward and making every single hair in Eric's body tense in panic.

"I… ah… I…" the young man managed to mutter when he realized that it wasn't a nightmare, that he was in the presence of the evil arch mage sorcerer indeed, and that Venger was not certainly the type that would calmly accept to be ignored.

"Better," Venger hissed, apparently pleased. "So you can speak, after all. Then you won't have problems in telling me the current location of your friends."

Eric was not surprised. Of course it was all about their magical weapons, it always was. Venger needed them to become invincible and there was nothing he wouldn't do to obtain them, including killing him off…

"I…" he muttered. "I don't know…"

Venger advanced until being right before Eric. The young man cringed as much as he could when he felt that demon leaning toward him.

"You. Are. Lying," Venger said calmly, as his cold and hard finger slided down the Cavalier's cheek.

Eric winced. He was going to die, he was sure, right there and in that moment.

"I'm not, I'm not, I swear it! I don't know where they are, we are travelling all the time! When your Orcs ambushed us in those woods we were in transit to the west, but we didn't have a fixed destination, I swear it!"

Eric closed his eyes with panic. He was expecting Venger to yell at him, to cast some terrible spell on him, to start ripping him off with his claws… After a moment of silence, all he heard was a low and irritating sound, as if a chain was being dragged over metal. Venger was chuckling…

_Oh God, oh God, not a good sign, oh please don't let him kill me, please don't…_

"So," Venger said, surprisingly relaxed, "you are here alone, without your friends or your shield to protect you. _And… _without any use to me."

That made Eric's eyes snap open. He was so terrified that he thought he would die of pure panic. He had never been so scared in his entire life.

"NO! Please don't kill me… please…"

Venger burst in laughter, showing his sharp fangs. "Kill you? My dear boy… which other fate would await you here? Your shield was the only thing that made you valuable. Without it, you are just a pathetic and whimpering creature soiling the purity of my castle."

"My friends… they will avenge me if you kill me… t-the… the Dungeon Master won't tolerate…"

"Nobody will help you here. Since the moment you entered this place, you lost all hope. This castle is protected by a powerful spell. There is no way to locate it because it moves every moon cycle, its location known only to me. Who will help you now, young Cavalier?"

Eric gaped. Venger was right. He was at the monster's mercy and there was nothing he could do to change that. All that remained now was hoping his execution would be fast, and not that painful…

But no! He wasn't ready to die! He didn't want to die!

He was too busy panicking that he didn't realize when Venger stepped away from him.

"Of course," the evil sorcerer said, "there are ways in which a little pest like you can make itself useful."

Venger had retreated toward the other side of the dungeon. As far as the shadows allowed him to see, Eric saw that Venger sat on one stone ledge protruding from the wall.

"I… I won't betray my friends," Eric said as bravely as he could, but the shake of his voice betrayed him. "I w-won't allow you to use me to get to them…"

Once again, Venger softly chuckled. "Your friends, my dear boy, will fall into my hands sooner than later. In the meantime, I'm sure I can find more… _proper_ uses for a cowardly whelp like you."

Eric felt something resembling relief. Did that mean he would be spared? He knew that Venger had many slaves spread through the entire Realm. Maybe he would be sent to work in some mine or to help constructing some of the many shelters Venger had… it didn't matter as long as he preserved his life. Eric hated hard work, but in that moment it seemed like a blessing.

"Take off your clothing."

Eric's head was suddenly empty of thoughts. He made a mental rewind, trying to regain focus. What had that been? He had been so centered on his thoughts of salvation that he was sure he had heard wrong.

"Your garments," Venger spoke again. "Remove them."

Eric started at Venger in complete shock. "W-what…?"

"Don't make me repeat myself, boy."

Eric started to shiver again. "B-b-butbutbut… w-why…?"

Venger's response was a vicious and evil grimace. The wave of utter panic assaulted Eric again. Why the heck did that monster wanted him to undress? It made no sense… Was he going to be bewitched, tortured…?

The next sound coming out of Venger's mouth was a growl that would have made the most horrible beast sound like a kitten. Eric flinched as he managed to find the strength to stand up. He had made up his mind; he wanted to live.

He tossed his cape aside and started to fool around with the belt of his short yellow tunic.

"Faster," Venger spat.

Eric obeyed, what else could he do but obey? That monster could kill him with one single finger, turn him into a pulp of blood and bones… Hell no, he was far too handsome to die in such a way!

Awkwardly, he removed the tunic and threw it away. Seeing that Venger was impatient, Eric began to liberate the restraints of his blue shirt and leggings. He was utterly embarrassed when he got himself trapped while removing the shirt above his head, realizing that he hadn't removed his gauntlets first.

Venger's laugh only made him feel worse. Eric had already learned that every time Venger laughed, nothing good could be predicted for his immediate future.

He got rid as he could of the shirt and the gauntlets, and leaned one hand on the wall as he removed the armor of his legs. Once he had his feet bare on the cold surface of the floor, he hesitated.

"Are you waiting for something, boy?"

Eric closed his eyes, infinitely embarrassed. Somehow he had expected it would all end there. He had gotten rid of most of his clothing with easiness guided by his fear, but now, when only his leggings and underwear remained, reality hit him with a cruel and powerful blow.

He was being forced to strip in front of a monster…

"Continue!"

Venger's voice reverberated through the dungeon like a thunder, making Eric cringe and lean on the wall behind him again. But still, his shivering hands placed on his leggings and started to tug them down.

Immense shame colored his face as he saw his now bare legs. _Please let me wake up… this is all a nightmare…_

"I recall to have commanded you to remove your clothing, _all _your clothing."

Eric closed his eyes in frustration. He turned around and with a sterile movement he pulled down his underwear and threw it at the top of the pile of clothing beside him. Cold air immediately assaulted his nude body, but coldness wasn't the reason of the shivering of the young Cavalier. He rested his forehead against the wall, his hands cupped over his crotch.

"Turn around."

That was, by far, the most humiliating experience Eric ever lived. It highly surpassed the one time in which he had been caught in the shower by his cousin Amanda when he was fifteen. That had been the first time than somebody else had seen him naked practically since he abandoned the use of diapers, but it had been terribly humiliating, especially when Amanda decided to make public what she had seen and all his friends from his Elite High School had made fun of him for months.

"I said turn around!"

Eric grimaced with anguish as he did what commanded. He kept his head bowed, his legs tightened and his hands covering his genitals.

"Good, good…" he heard Venger saying, by the tone of his voice it was easy to guess he was smirking. "You are better shaped than I assumed… You have been exercising your body, I can see."

Eric didn't reply. He had been indeed training with his shield and also practicing the use of the sword. When the months turned into years and it seemed that he would remain in the Realm longer than he had thought, he had dedicated a lot of his time to become a real and mighty Cavalier.

Definitely not the frightened nude boy he was now…

"Remove your hands."

_Oh no, not that please… _

"W-what for…?" Eric dared to speak.

"Do it! Remove your hands and put them behind your head."

With his most frustrated grimace of defeat, Eric did what Venger had told him. He could feel his hair shivering against the palms of his hands when he placed them beneath his head. He could also feel, as sharp as a knife, Venger's stare fixated on his exposed genitals. It was so humiliating… Being naked in the presence of that devil… What could be worse?

"Come closer."

There it was, the answer he hadn't requested.

One step, and another one… His bare legs could barely sustain him.

"Come into the light."

Eric stopped at the center of the lonely ray of moonlight entering from the little window of the dungeon. The whitish light generously illuminated his nudity.

Then, silence returned. Eric turned his head aside and fixated his stare at the second bar of window. He could feel his heart beating hard inside his chest as his body was carefully scrutinized by the horrible creature ahead him.

Then hell came, the thick mantle of apparent calm shattered with one single movement. As fast and cunning as a snake, a hand closed around his neck and dragged him away from the moonlight. Next thing he knew, he was on his stomach, sprawled through Venger's lap.

"What are you doing?" he cried, totally panicked. "Let me go! Let me go!"

A clawed hand positioned on his back, discouraging any attempt to get up.

"Aaaaah! What the fuck? Take your hands off me!"

"First thing you will learn," Venger said calmly, "concerns hierarchies. From now on, you will address me only as Master, and you will only speak when I allow you to do so."

"W-what…? Are you insane? Let me go right n—ggggghhh!" Eric groaned in pain when something hard and cold impacted his buttocks.

He stopped struggling, momentarily paralyzed. Had Venger just… _spanked _him?

He didn't have time to assess what has happened, as another hard spank fell on his bare buttocks.

"Aaagh, stop!" he cried, restarting his struggles.

"Silence is a quality you still need to learn, young Cavalier," Venger said as he kept spanking Eric. "Speaking with disrespect to your Master won't be tolerated, learn that lesson and you may survive here. Disobey and I'll tear your skin off, layer by layer, is that understood?"

Eric bit his lips, forcing himself to remain silent as more and more spanks fell on him. He lowered his extended arms, being careful not to touch Venger. Perhaps if he closed his eyes and blanked his mind, everything would be over soon.

… _five, six, seven… - or was it eight? – eight, nine… _When would it stop? His buttocks were in a lot of pain, but not as much as the suffering his dignity was taking. If anybody would have told him that same morning that he would end the day sprawled naked on Venger's lap, his bare ass receiving the spanking of his life, he would have burst in laughter.

But laughing was something that definitely he didn't feel to do now.

And suddenly, it stopped. His buttocks were burning, blood pumping furiously in that shameful part of his anatomy.

Was it over, then? Could he get up now? Maybe he could ask…

It was then when Venger's hand returned, only that this time it didn't spank him, but positioned with a strange softness on his right buttock. A cold chill ran through his spine, freezing his frenetic heart. The feeling increased when the hand started to caress the curvature of his bottom.

Eric slightly groaned, astonished and offended by the invasive contact.

"Your skin is so soft… and yet so firm… you were definitely not born in this Realm."

The hand increased its reach, also caressing his left buttock, its fingers softly massaging his skin.

It wasn't painful, not at all, and that was what disturbed Eric the most. He hadn't expected anything more than pain from Venger, or humiliation as he already had proved. But softness… never in a million years.

And yet it was happening. Venger was caressing his buttocks with a delicacy that seemed so foreign to the evil arch mage.

But surprises were only starting, as Venger's other hand started to find its way beneath the young man's stomach.

Eric opened his eyes until their limits when the hand went lower. Too shocked by that sudden invasion of his groin, Eric gaped and growled in complaint.

"P-please…" Eric couldn't help to mumble when Venger's clawed fingers started to travel through his pubis.

Venger ignored him and continued claiming Eric's intimacy. When his hand closed around Eric's penis, the young man expressed his anguish in a faltering sob.

Venger stopped moving. His hand remained motionless, holding the lax penis of the terrified Cavalier. Eric felt like crying, unable to believe what was happening. Nobody but himself had ever touched his penis before, and now it was being handled by that demoniacal and disgusting creature…

_Please… please help me… Dungeon Master, please get me out of here…_

The hand tightened its grip, four fingers immobile as what Eric assumed it was Venger's thumb started to rub the tip of his dearest organ.

"Please…" he dared to speak again, his voice barely a whisper. "Please stop…"

Once again, Venger ignored him. He continued rubbing, starting to yank the young man's penis at the same time.

"Ugh… please don't…" Eric whined. His eyes were already wet.

His pleas wouldn't get any result, he had that clear, but what else could he do, but beg Venger to stop? His sexual awakening had had the disgrace of crossing with his arrival to the Realm, so except for touching himself whenever he had the privacy to do it, or having wet dreams with the cheerleaders of the Dallas Cowboys every now and then, Eric was completely a virgin about anything regarding sexuality. After all, he had been too busy saving his life from monstrous creatures during the past few years to give Eric junior a lot of attention…

And now there he was, being masturbated by the Force of Evil himself…

He winced when Venger's grip extended to his testicles. He closed his eyes as hard as he could, infinitely embarrassed. Dense tears started to slide down his cheeks when he couldn't hold them anymore. He honestly wanted to die when he imagined what his friends would say if they could see him like that… what would his parents would say… even his cousin Amanda.

"_You're a pussy, silky balls, I always knew it!" _Eric could almost hear her, saying the humiliating nickname she had given him that day in which she caught him in the shower…

And a pussy was what he was, he was sure, so proud of his evolution into becoming a true Cavalier, but not moving a finger to stop Venger having his way with him.

"Silky balls?" he heard Venger saying, shattering the humiliating trance Eric had felt in. What the heck had that been? Had Venger entered his mind? "It certainly suits you," Venger laughed, squeezing the objects in question.

"Aaaagh! Please don't…" Eric cried.

A hard spank silenced him. "What did I tell you about only speaking when I allow you to? I would say that you had never had any kind of discipline, young Cavalier."

Venger spanked him again, never releasing his penis. Eric groaned when the manipulation of his genitals became more intense.

"And discipline," Venger continued imparting his lesson, "is something that I will impose on you."

A violent yank on his penis made the young man wince, the fingers of his hands and feet moving defenseless. The spanks also increased their intensity, following the rhythm of the hand job between his legs.

_Please stop… please stop… this can't be happening, not to me…_

"P…please… please take off your hand… please… I beg of you…"

Venger chuckled. "That is a start. Begging is something you will exercise a lot during your stay here, my young disciple. However, you should also exercise your sincerity. Lying, you see, won't be tolerated, especially when you are clear as crystal to me."

_Lying? _What did that monster mean?

Eric's penis suddenly hit his own stomach, making him realize that what was between his legs was not a flaccid piece of his abused self anymore.

He was having an erection. He didn't have to look at it to know…

Eric groaned in frustration. How could that happen? He wasn't enjoying that, he wasn't enjoying that outrage at all… but his body had reacted, was reacting now… It had to be some sort of spell, something to manipulate him as much as his intimacy was currently being manipulated.

"You beg me to stop, but your body says otherwise," Venger sneered, not giving the Cavalier a single moment of rest.

"Ggggghhh!" Eric clenched his teeth, unable to resist the wave of heat burning his groin. Even the hard spanks on his buttocks stopped being merely painful and became full part of the same big thing scorching him from inside.

"Ssss…stop… ppplease…."

Eric opened his mouth and sent whispering to hell. When voice came out of his throat again, it wasn't in the shape of words, but as a clear moan that resounded between the four stone walls.

And then he felt it, his intimate and sticky fluid coming out of him…

His body tensed for some seconds as his penis released stream after stream of humiliation. He was so absorbed by that humiliating orgasm that he didn't realize when there was nothing beneath his body than the stone ledge protruding from the wall of the dungeon. Venger had vanished so suddenly that Eric hadn't even noticed.

He breathed agitatedly, drops of sweat mixing with his tears. He was still on his fours, his eyes fixed in horror at the little puddles of his own semen scattered through the ledge, when he heard Venger's laugh, as clear as if the arch mage was beside him. No, it was more like if that mocking laugh was all around him. Even more, inside his head…

Eric grabbed his face with both hands and let his body fell to the hard ledge beneath him, frustrated and humiliated like never before. At that moment, he couldn't stand to see himself.

_To be continued._

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_I know this fandom doesn't have so many followers as others in this site, but I would love to hear your opinions, if you think this sucked, or it sucked big time. Please review and tell me if you want an update!_

_MANY thanks to Shoysrock for the HUGE inspiration and to D.B. Cooper for his help with my grammar mistakes. I corrected this first chapter based on his suggestions._


	2. Awakenings

_THANKS so much for the reviews received for the first chapter of this story. I honestly wasn't sure about posting it, but I decided to share it because, among the smut, believe me there is a very interesting story to be told._

_Shoysrock, I'm so glad you enjoyed the first chapter! You were my inspiration to write it in the first place, so you can imagine how much your comment meant to me :) I hope you will enjoy this update. You can bet I enjoyed writing it, Lol!_

_D. B. Cooper, I have no words to thank you for taking the time to help me with my English :) I also appreciate that you are reading my story. As you said, guy to guy is not the kind of stories a straight guy would normally follow. But I don't consider this is a slash story, as I really don't consider Venger being gay either. I think sexuality is much more complex than just gay and straight, both equally natural in my point of view. But with this story I don't pretend to give any statement about sexuality. I will only focus in Eric and Venger particular cases. I'm glad you found the 'Eric junior' part amusing, so did I! Even though this fic will have a lot of smut and angst, I will also include humor and occasional fluff, mostly to honor and maintain the aura of the original TV series._

_Huh… big author's notes this time! Let's move on._

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**Chapter 2**

**Awakenings**

Despite having been in the Realm for almost a year now, Hank still had his doubts about certain practices he considered primitive. He didn't mean to be disrespectful, but he would have preferred to see Eric in an actual Emergency Room than sprawled on the rough surface of that wood table, attended by the village's witch doctor, who seemed to be more interested in covering every inch of flesh of the young Cavalier's body with strange herbs than actually healing him.

Hank was no medic, but he could tell that his friend's worst damage was located at the right side of his torso, in which four thin but large gashes adorned his skin. They were fresh, inflicted perhaps just a few hours ago. Hank didn't want to know what had caused them; knives maybe, or perhaps a clawed hand… And there was, of course, the _other _damage… The conditions in which Eric had been found left a dark certainty about the kind of perversions he had been submitted to during his stay in Venger's castle.

The young Ranger felt a shiver running down his spine. He had always considered sexual abuse the worst crime and sin, but it had always been a very, _very_ distant sin, so foreign to his life. But now, as he was forced to face it on the person of one of his closest friends, Hank realized that life had very cruel ways to impose maturity, and suffering.

The witch doctor took a small ball of herbs to his mouth and started to chew it. After a minute, he spat them on Eric's left side and started to rub the four infamous red lines. Eric groaned a little and frowned.

"Is he in pain?" Hank asked, worried.

"He has nightmares," the old witch doctor explained. "He must be having very intense memories, but don't worry, he will remain as knocked out as he was when you brought him here. The narcotic I gave him should keep him unconscious for the rest of the night."

That was something Hank was thankful for. He didn't have any idea of how he would address Eric once he awakened.

"Is he going to be alright?" Hank asked after the doctor finished rubbing Eric's wounds with his peculiar ointment.

The old man caressed his long white beard. "That depends on the strength of his spirit. His physical injuries don't worry me. He's dehydrated and certainly hasn't been fed properly, but I'm sure you are aware that most of the damage he received was of another kind."

Hank clenched his fists and bowed his head. "Yes, I'm aware…" God, how he hated Venger.

"The dignity of this young man has been ripped off," the witch doctor continued, "his body and mind submitted to unthinkable and depraved vices. The road to recovery, if he ever reaches it, will be difficult and long."

"I understand… and we'll make sure to give him the support he needs."

The witch doctor cleaned his hands on his old robe. "I have done everything I can for him. The rest is up to you. Remove the herbs when the moon reaches its maximum splendor, except for the ones on his injuries. When he awakes, make sure to feed him."

"Yes, doctor, thank you very much," Hank said, putting some coins in the old man's hands.

* * *

The witch doctor had left more than two hours ago when the door opened and Presto's head peeked from the opening.

"Come in, Presto," Hank told him.

Presto did so and closed the door behind him. He was carrying a carefully folded brown villager outfit.

"Diana bought these clothes in the village," the Magician informed. "They are at least one size larger than Eric, but they will do for now."

Hank nodded slowly, watching the motionless form of the Cavalier. "Did she notice something strange outside, anything that suggests we've been followed?"

Presto shook his head. "No. We are hundreds of miles away from Venger's castle. I really doubt he has any clue about our whereabouts."

"Good, because it seems we will have to stay in this village longer than planned… What about the girls and Bobby?"

"Diana wanted to be here, but she thought it would be better for us to take care of Eric while he is… uh, unfit to receive ladies visits. As for Bobby, he doesn't know what's going on. He thinks Eric was tortured, although he keeps asking why Eric had no clothes when you and Diana took him out of the dungeon."

"Make sure to keep the truth away from him. Bobby is too young and he wouldn't understand…"

Presto sat on a nearby bed and placed the folded new outfit beside him.

"He looks different… so… ah, I don't know, so like a different person now," Presto said, feeling very uncomfortable at the sight of his wounded friend.

Hank had to agree. Eric was thinner and his hair was longer than the last time he had seen him, but it was much more than that. Hank couldn't give it a name, but he was sure that extreme suffering could do strange things to people.

The Ranger tried to shake those thoughts aside and got up, heading toward a bucket of crystal clear water near the window. "Give me a hand here, Presto. Let's clean him up before moving him to the bed."

"Huh… what about all those herbs covering him? He looks like a giant salad."

Hank smiled, internally thanking Presto for trying to rest some gravity off the situation.

"We can remove them now. The moon is bright enough."

"Huh?"

Hank shook his head. "Never mind… Just help me removing them, all except the ones at his right side."

Hank brought the bucket of water and two rags towards the table while Presto removed very carefully the herbs covering Eric. Hank noticed how his friend was grasping the herbs with barely the tips of his fingers, reluctant to touch the Cavalier.

Hank dampened a rug in the clean water of the bucket and started to rub softly Eric's shoulders. "The witch doctor said that he hadn't been fed regularly…"

"He could definitely use a couple of pounds now that you mention it…" Presto said, grabbing the other rug but remaining motionless; he seemed hesitant about what to do with it.

Hank noticed his disturbance and stared at him.

"Presto?"

"I… huh… I'm afraid to hurt him."

"Just be careful. The doctor said he needed to rest but I'm sure Eric would appreciate a small hygiene session first. He has always been so tidy… Make sure not to move those herbs on his side, though, they will make his wounds close faster."

Presto nodded slowly and began to rub Eric's chest. Some minutes of silence passed, only broken by the soft sound the rugs made as they removed the dirt and dry blood from the young Cavalier's skin.

"Hank?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think it's true… that he was… r-r… raped?"

Hank's hand stopped moving, his hand suspended over Eric's waist. The accursed word… it was only then when Hank realized he hadn't dared to mention it himself.

"Yes… I'm afraid so."

"But… but could it be… I mean… it would be so horrible in our world, but here it seems even worst… I never thought that things like that could happen here… What are we going to do now, Hank? What is Eric going to do?"

"Eric is going to be alright, Presto," Hank said, forcing himself to believe it. "We are going to help him to be alright."

"B-but… I don't know how to help him… I wouldn't know what to tell him…"

"None of us knows, but we will learn. He's our friend and he knows we care for him. I'm sure he will let us help him."

"He hasn't seen us in two months… I just can't imagine the kind of hell he lived during all this time. D-do you think that it happened to him… every single day…?"

"I don't know, Presto!" Hank said, somehow exasperated. "I don't know if he was abused on a daily basis and I don't want to know! Our only concern must be his welfare and his welfare only! As for any other details, I suggest we don't mention anything unless he wants to talk about it, do you understand?"

Presto bowed his head and continued to clean Eric's body. "Yes… I'm sorry Hank, I just don't know how to react… all this is very new to me."

Hank shook his head, reminding himself that Presto was younger than him, practically a boy, of course he couldn't understand, of course he was afraid. "No, I'm the one who is sorry, Presto. This is new to us all… I guess we have to deal with it together, as we always do with any problem. Now let's get him to the bed. He could use a softer surface than this table."

Hank and Presto grabbed Eric by his armpits and legs and carried him to the bed. Hank seized the underpants of the villager's outfit and started the uncomfortable task of covering Eric's nudity. Presto helped him, certainly feeling as disturbed as Hank was. The three boys were used to see each other naked. They were guys and they had bathed together several times; it was part of the natural rituals that male bonding included. The current situation, however, was an entirely different matter. Hank hated to feel that way, but he couldn't avoid looking at Eric's body and thinking that it had been violated in ways he could hardly imagine, in ways he didn't dare to imagine… He knew Presto felt the same way, even worst, being younger than him.

"Go to the other room with the others," Hank told Presto. "It's very late and you need to sleep, my friend."

"What about you?"

"I'll stay here to guard Eric. The witch doctor said—"

"Huh… Hank?"

"What is it?"

"When did you say Eric would wake up?"

"Not until tomorrow. Why?"

Presto lifted his shivering arm and pointed forward. "Well… it's just that… he just did."

Hank turned around, only to find Eric's eyes staring at him.

* * *

_DAY TWO_

There was a place between being awaken and asleep. Eric knew it well because hundreds of times he had believed that he would open his eyes and find himself on his big and cozy bed, a pair of soft slippers waiting for his feet, ready to take him to the beginning of his complicated day. What body lotion to use during his bath, what outfit to wear, what kind of bread to chose for his breakfast, who to call to join him at the Equestrian Club…

But the fantasy always ended the same way. He woke up surrounded by discomfort in that damned and primitive world he hated so much.

That particular morning wasn't the exception. Eric's first conscious thought was that he wanted to be somewhere else. The second thought, guided by the coldness around him and the hard surface beneath his body, was that he wanted to open his eyes and found himself in some dusty room of the many inns he and his friends had been during their journey through every single miserable village the Realm was so full of. Even the woods or a wet cave would have been welcome… but what was definitely not welcome was to open his eyes and found himself inside that accursed dungeon.

Eric practically jumped to sit on the ledge he had been laying on, his eyes frenetically looking around the cell. A little relief, though; he was alone, there was no trace of anybody else there. There was no trace of his clothes either…

It hadn't been a nightmare, then. Last night had existed, it had been real. A burning wave of embarrassment made him close his eyes in frustration. No, it couldn't be… it couldn't have happened… he held to his refusal as he jumped out from the ledge and headed toward the bottom of the cell, as far away as he could from the door. When he grasped his penis to urinate, he realized that denial was a mantra that wouldn't work, not this time. This was more than _I'm not in this fucking Realm, I'm not in this fucking Realm _thing. This time it had to do with the invasion of his intimacy and manhood, this time it had to do with abuse… sexual abuse.

Eric averted his face, unable to keep staring at his genitals. He couldn't believe that that same penis he was holding right now had been a toy in the hands of his arch enemy just some hours before. It was outrageous, completely insane…

When he finished his morning business, Eric returned to the ledge and sat on it, leaning his back against the wall and embracing his folded legs. Whitish stains beside him made him have another important realization, even more painful than the previous one.

What the heck had happened to him last night? He couldn't remember having felt anything else than pain and humiliation, but the traces of his own semen said otherwise… That infamous orgasm he had had… Venger had forced him to have it somehow. Of course, being an evil sorcerer as he was, he certainly bewitched Eric whilst abusing him. Eric was certain of that, because he hadn't enjoyed at all being so roughly masturbated. How could anybody enjoy being molested?

The sound of the door opening took him out of his thoughts. He cringed by instinct, terrified with the possibility of seeing Venger again. Fortunately – yeah, right – the newcomer was one Orc, who was carrying a small bowl filled with some kind of food.

Eric tightened his embrace on himself. He didn't know if those pig-like-monsters that served Venger had any idea of what had happened in that dungeon the night before. Perhaps all the castle knew by now – maybe even the entire Realm – and every living soul was mocking him right now.

The Orc didn't laugh, though. He just left the bowl some steps away from Eric and left. Okay, then maybe the disgusting creature didn't know… but of course this Orc must have wondered why the heck the same prisoner that had been dragged to that dungeon fully clothed was now stark naked.

Eric waited until the steps of the Orc couldn't be heard anymore to get to the bowl. Damn, he was hungry… his stomach was feeling so empty, reminding him that he hadn't ate anything since the afternoon of the day before. The Orcs had attacked he and his friends just when they were about to have dinner, a very shitty timing.

But when he caught sight of the very unattractive meal that was in the bowl he completely forgot about his big appetite. He didn't know what the hell that thing that looked like dragon's shit was, but it made the bitter berries he used to have for breakfast look delicious in comparison.

He put the bowl aside with his foot and returned to sit on the ledge, trying to get as close as he could to the few sunbeams that entered through the small window, being careful not to be so exposed to whoever peeked through the opening at the upper part of the door.

The morning went by, and so did the afternoon. Eric had given a rest to his fear and shame to submit himself in boredom. He had been in that disgusting dungeon for almost a day now, nothing more to do but looking at the window – too high for him to climb – and the blackish stones of the four walls around him. He had barely moved, only a couple of times to take a pee and only when it had been really urgent. Somehow he had managed to fool himself into thinking that if he didn't move, nobody would notice his presence. Being naked made him feel very vulnerable – even more than he felt without his shield – not to mention utterly ashamed. At that moment he would have given his entire family fortune for some trousers.

Night had begun to fall when he heard footsteps again. Eric started to panic with the possibility of being "visited" by Venger again, but then he thought that walking was not the way of the evil arch mage; he liked to appear out of nowhere to scare the shit out of his victims.

His visitors turned out to be two Orcs, maybe the ones that had brought him there, Eric didn't care. What he cared about was their intentions, especially when both creatures headed towards him.

"Wha… what do you want?" Eric spat, cringing as much as he could against the wall and extending his arms forwards, as if he could contain the two beasts that way. "Stay away from me!"

The two Orcs ignored his cries and grabbed him by the arms, forcing him to get up and dragging him towards the center of the dungeon.

"Let go of me! Let go of me!" Eric kept shouting, kicking and struggling without any success.

One of the Orcs extracted one chain from his clothes and trapped Eric's wrist with it. He threw the free extreme of the chain upwards and passed it through a ring attached to the ceiling, chaining Eric's other wrist with it and immobilizing the young man's arms above his head.

"What are you doing? Release me! Do you have any idea of who my father is? He'll have your guts for this!"

One of the Orcs walked out of the cell while the remaining one adjusted Eric's chains until the Cavalier was secured in a standing position, his bare feet touching the ground barely with his toes.

"This hurts! Release me this instant you ugly freak! I mean it!"

The Orc ignored his cries and also abandoned the cell. Eric continued shouting, feeling as uncomfortable as he was exposed.

The Orcs returned, carrying four buckets of what it seemed to be water.

"What is that? What are you going to—aaaagggh!" Eric shrieked when a full bucket of water was thrown to his body.

"It's cold, you fucking monster! Couldn't you at least have it warmed before? In case you didn't notice, I was already freezing my bare ass in this cell!"

The Orc grabbed a rug and started to rub Eric's body with very little delicacy, making the young man cringe as much as his restraints allowed him.

"Take your hands off! Don't touch me I said!"

Eric was furious, his rage momentarily defeating his fear. He hated to be touched, he hated it… The memories of the assault he had suffered the night before only made the moment worst. How in the world could he allow some stinky and stupid monster to bathe him? It was outrageous!

Another bucket of cold water and another couple of hands added to the degrading cleaning session. Eric winced when one of the Orcs grabbed his genitals and roughly rubbed them with the rug.

"Uugh, that's a restricted area, hands off!"

Fortunately the invasion of his intimacy didn't last too long. The Orcs had more flesh to cover and certainly very little patience. After rubbing – carving would have been a more proper term – frenetically every inch of Eric's body, they rinsed him with the content of the remaining two buckets of water and abandoned the dungeon.

"A… are you going to leave me _like this? _Wait! Put me down! My arms hurt!"

_Great, now I can't even cover myself. Anybody who peeks through the door will see me with my balls hanging. Just great!_

After some minutes of struggling with the chains, silence returned. Eric was only achieving hurting himself, so he went for plan B and managed to support himself on his toes, switching the weight of his body from one toe to the other one to try to give them some relief.

He was tired and sore, and hunger had returned… He didn't know how much longer he would be able to resist under those conditions, but he was sure not too much. How ironic, he would die of starvation hanging bare naked in a dark dungeon… certainly not the way he had thought it would happen.

The pain on his arms was starting to enter the range of unbearable when a low humming reached his ears. An alarming, dark laughter, right behind him…

A chill traveled through his spine. Fuck, there it was again… Once again caught by surprise, once again not alone anymore…

"I see you are starting to get comfortable," Venger said. "Good."

Eric swallowed. What would Hank do in a situation like that? _Remain calm, remain calm… _Fuck, how could he remain calm? Certainly Hank had _never _been in a situation like that.

Still, Eric managed to keep his voice together when he spoke. "Where are my clothes?"

"Secured with your shield," Venger replied, getting closer as the proximity of his voice indicated. "But don't worry, you won't need them anymore."

Eric closed his eyes with frustration. He had expected an answer like that.

"I see you are shivering," Venger continued. "Is it fear or is it coldness what makes your body tremble?"

With that, Venger ran a finger through Eric's back, making the young man flinch.

"Is there something wrong?" Venger asked, a mocking tone in his voice.

"Please leave me alone," Eric managed to say, weaker every second.

"Alone? Cavalier, I think we have a pending conversation. It seems to me that you are as confused as you are afraid. Am I wrong?"

Eric stayed silent. He was so afraid indeed… for a moment he thought he would pee on himself.

"I recall having told you to speak when you are addressed, boy. Answer!"

There it was again, the irrational fear Eric had of angering Venger. The monster was scary enough just by his name, but if he dared to piss him up, Eric had no doubt that he would kill him, dismember him in pieces and eat his remains.

"I… I don't want to be here… Please… give me back my clothes, please…"

"Begging is always a good start," Venger purred, his finger finding Eric's buttocks. "I trust you have recovered from the very mild punishment I gave you last night."

Eric flinched, feeling the arch mage's touch like a burning flame.

"My definition of punishment is radically different," Venger continued, his words as vicious as his touch, "but you inspired me to act different. No, it was more like you were a_sking _for it."

Eric couldn't help to shake his body, completely panicked when he could feel Venger's body against his back. The hand that had been caressing his buttocks moved to position itself on his waist.

"There's no need to panic, Cavalier. I have decided to put an end to your confusion and open your pristine eyes. Childhood is something you and I will end for you tonight."

Eric gasped when Venger's hand suddenly grasped his penis and started to pull it softly. It was going to happen again, it was going to happen again… He couldn't stand it, he just couldn't…

"Please don't…" he begged. "Why… why are you doing this?"

"Why?" Venger repeated. "That's a question you should answer yourself, my boy. It was you who requested _this_, last night when you reached ecstasy so easily under my touch."

Eric blushed violently. That orgasm was destined to torture him for the rest of his life, as short as it would be.

_I didn't… I didn't enjoy it… How could I? Oh God, please help me…_

Venger's big hand included Eric's testicles in its possessive grip. The young man groaned, complaining of an invasion that would feel the same degrading no matter how many times it happened. Venger laughed and squeezed the genitals in his hand, amused with the embarrassment and fear of his victim.

"Do you touch yourself regularly, Cavalier? Yes, I can see you, sneaking away from your friends every time you had the opportunity, hiding behind a tree and playing with yourself as an animal does on its mating season, fantasizing with the desires you have every day. Tell me, young Cavalier, did that female Thief ever touched you like this?"

Eric stopped breathing. How the hell did Venger know about Sheila? He had a crush on her since they met. He even had made a move on her a couple of times, even after their arrival to the Realm, but it had always been obvious that she was infatuated with Hank.

"She didn't, I can see…" Venger continued, never stopping his hand work. "She doesn't even know that you wanted so much for her to touch you like this. She doesn't even know that you played with yourself, wishing for your hands to be hers."

Eric bowed his head, as much as his uncomfortable position allowed him to. It was too much… that monster was inside his head, reading his most intimate secrets like a book. Yes, it was true, he had day dreamed about Sheila so many times, he had erotic fantasies about her, he had masturbated thinking about her…

"What would she say if she knew about all of this?" Venger said, pinching Eric's scrotum to call his attention. "What would she say if she could see you right now?"

Still wincing because of the pain in his testicles, Eric's embarrassment became extreme when he saw Sheila herself standing before him, looking at him with a mixture of pity and disgust.

"Ask her, Cavalier, ask her if seeing you as my toy arouses her."

Eric averted his glance, unable to keep staring at Sheila's face one second more. Even though he knew that wasn't Sheila, it hurt him as if the mirage before him was real.

"Why…." he said with a very low voice. "Why are you doing this…? You stripped me from my shield, my clothes and my dignity… what else of me is left for you to destroy?"

The image of Sheila vanished.

"That's where you are mistaken, Cavalier. You are no fool, but there's so much you still need to learn, the most important lesson being that you belong to me. You are mine now and mine you shall remain as long as you live."

"No…"

Venger's hand stopped shaking Eric's genitals, but didn't release them. The young man could feel Venger moving beneath him, both the textile of his large skirt and his free hand grazing the Cavalier's bare back.

Eric was not stupid, but still, his mind refused to allow the worst fear to enter. He was still in a state of denial somehow. Horrible things like that didn't happen to nice decent guys like him…

But they did, in this Realm or another. Eric clenched his teeth and trembled like a leaf under the wind when he felt something hard and sharp grazing his buttocks.

_No… nonono… _

"Please…" he begged. "I… I have never done this…"

Venger's response was the temporal retire of his hand. Was it over?

Eric cried in shock when his buttocks were spread suddenly, exposing the most embarrassing part of his body.

"No!" he cried, reaching the limits of his panic. "I don't want this to happen, I don't want—"

His next cry was so loud that it even hurt his own ears. The sharp and hard thing penetrated him so roughly that he was sure his body had been torn in two.

"Aaaaaaarrgghhhhh! Stop, stop! I can't stand it, please stop!"

"You are so tight, boy… I'm starting to believe you had never done this indeed."

A violent thrust and Eric started to produce dense tears of shame.

"It hurts, it hurts so much! Please stop… aaaarrrgh… you're killing me!"

"You won't die tonight, my little toy, that I can assure you," Venger hissed, caressing Eric's nipples with his hands.

Eric winced and continued crying. _That _couldn't be happening, not to him… _That _was something that happened to unfortunate women with the bad luck of being in the wrong place at the wrong time…

But what had he done? He had done exactly what Hank had told him. He had separated from the group to protect a family of dwarves from the attacking Orcs and that's how he got captured. He had done the right thing and there he had his payment. He was being raped… _raped…_

His body, his mind, his most sacred intimacy… all exposed and open for that monster to possess. For the first time in his life, Eric wanted to die.

"Please no more… no more… I can't take it anymore… please…"

Venger caressed his head almost affectionately before taking control of the young man's genitals once more. "Accept pain and embrace it, Cavalier. Learn from it. You will be surprised how closely related it is to pleasure."

_Pleasure? _Among his torment, Eric wondered what kind of maniac could relate concepts so opposite. All he knew was that his insides were burning, brutally penetrated by whatever disgusting thing that demon had between his legs. At some moment, he started to feel his own blood warming his inner thighs.

"Relax," he heard Venger saying. "There's no need for you to suffer like this. Give yourself to me and pain will turn into pleasure. You have my word on it."

"Fuck… your… word…" Eric managed to speak, not caring anymore about provoking the monster's wrath.

Venger only burst in laughter, but Eric didn't notice, his body violently jerked with another onslaught of his assailant.

Eric didn't know how much time it passed. All he knew was that he was being destroyed from the inside, that there was a drill penetrating him and wouldn't stop until it tore him in into pieces.

At some point, pain turned into everything. Pain was his hair, his eyes, his skin… When he finally lost consciousness he had completely surrendered to suffering.

_To be continued._

_Please review!_


	3. Awkward but meaningful silences

_This story is turning out to be so easy to write, so here you guys have another update._

_Shoysrock, your approval means so much to me. You were the one who inspired me to write this, so I'll keep pestering you with my gratitude :) I haven't seen the show in years, but I'm glad I'm managing to keep the characters' personalities so far. Writing this story also made me want to watch the show again, so I'm getting ready for a massive marathon of D&D that will make my DVD burn, lol!_

_D. B. Cooper, thanks for your review. Hank was a character that bored me since his very first appearance. I have a thing against characters that are so perfect. But once his flaws and insecurities appeared, I was attracted to him again. I loved the immense responsibility he felt for being the leader. The welfare and life of his friends depended a lot of him, so my story will also focus a lot about that, because somehow it was his fault that Eric got captured. Thanks so much for pointing my typos for the last chapter, too :)_

_Firestorm84… oh wow… I'm speechless. Yours have to be among the most honest reviews I have ever received. I'm so happy that my writing managed to cause that reaction in that certain part of your anatomy, and I'll do my best to keep providing you happy times ;) _

_

* * *

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**Chapter 3**

**Awkward but meaningful silences**

Eric had his eyes open. If he was awake, however, was an entirely different matter. Hank supposed that his friend was still under the effects of the drug the witch doctor had given him because his face didn't reflect any surprise. There wasn't anything there, in fact, except an empty and flaccid stare. The former bright and vivid brown eyes of the former cocky Cavalier were opaque… dead.

"Oh… hi Eric," Presto said awkwardly. "It's us."

Hank sat on a chair near the bed. "How are you feeling, buddy?"

Eric blinked once before frowning slightly. He didn't seem surprised to see his friends at all.

"Where are we?" he asked weakly.

"At some village at the south of the Realm," Presto replied, grabbing his head. "Don't ask me about the name, I'm still trying to find out."

Hank smiled. Good old Presto… always trying to bring a smile even in the worst situations. But this one in particular would take more than innocent jokes.

"Presto did great with a teleportation spell and took us hundreds of miles away from any danger," Hank said. "You are safe now, Eric."

Eric didn't seem to feel any relief for the news, but Hank couldn't blame him. Probably nothing in the world could cheer him up at that moment, not even if a magical portal opened to take him home.

Eric didn't say anything. It was like if he hadn't heard Hank at all. The Ranger noticed that one of his friend's eyes was reddish and half closed, caused certainly by a beating. Who knew what kind of brutal treatment Eric had been forced to endure during the past two months.

"Hey, what are you doing? Stay in the bed," Presto said, hurrying to get beside Eric's side when the Cavalier moved the blankets aside and attempted to get up.

Eric flinched and covered his head with his hands, an instinctive reaction as Hank painfully realized. Presto stepped back immediately.

"Oh… I'm sorry, Eric… I didn't mean to scare you. I'm so sorry…"

Eric lowered his arms, staring uneasily at Presto before lowering his glance as well.

Hank was shocked. He thought he was ready to face the devastating damage inflicted on his friend, but he was completely wrong. Very few times had the burden of leadership felt so heavy on the young Ranger's shoulders.

"You need to rest, Eric," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "If you move now your wounds could open again."

Eric stared at his bare torso and saw the herbs covering one of his sides.

"You better not do that," Hank said when he saw his friend trying to remove the herbs. He didn't dare to get closer, fearing that Eric could have another reaction as the one he had had with Presto. The first thing he needed to understand, Hank said to himself, was that Eric's personal space would be very important from now on. After dozens of days of having his privacy invaded and corrupted, he would need to feel free again, to breathe.

Eric kept one of the herbs lifted up while he looked at one of the gashes at his torso. He didn't panic, however; he seemed to recognize that wound and the circumstances in which it had been inflicted.

Finally he returned the herb to its place and stared at his friends. "Where are the others?" he asked.

Hank signaled the door. "Outside, probably already sleeping in the other room. They all wanted to be here, but they didn't want to suffocate you."

Eric stared uneasily at the door, as if he feared what was behind it. Hank saw defeat in the serious face of his friend, a face he wasn't able to recognize.

"Can I have some water, please?"

"Sure!" Presto said, running toward a jar on a small table and eager to correct his mistake.

"Do you want something to eat too?" Hank asked. "We have some bread, it's a little hard but we'll get you warm and decent food first thing tomorrow morning."

"I'm not hungry," Eric said, returning his head to the pillow.

Hank sighed and rested his hands on his knees. He was aware that he had to be very careful how to address Eric in that moment, but he also had a responsibility toward him, so he decided to push a little further.

"You need to eat something, Eric. You are very weakened and you need to recover your strength."

Hank thought he had seen a slight grimace of disdain on Eric's face.

"Here!" Presto said, carrying a glass of water on his hands. "I got this water myself shortly after we arrived to this village. I made sure it was the freshest around."

Presto extended his arm and offered the glass to Eric, hesitant to get closer. Hank felt uncomfortable, certain that such involuntary rejection would only hurt Eric's shattered self-esteem even more, but the Cavalier accepted the glass and drank all the water in a single gulp.

"Whoa… easy," Presto said. "You're going to choke…"

Eric finished drinking and returned the glass to Presto, allowing his head to return to the pillow afterwards. Hank repressed the need to bit his lips in anger. He didn't know how much time his friend had spent without a proper place to rest.

"Go to sleep now, Presto," Hank said. "We don't want to tire Eric, right?"

"Right… Good night, Eric. I'll see you tomorrow."

Eric nodded slightly, not even staring at his friend.

When Presto closed the door behind him, Hank folded his arms across his chest, feeling more and more uncomfortable. Just what was he supposed to do right now?

"Aren't you leaving too?" he heard Eric asking him.

"Eh… no, no… I'll stay here with you."

"I don't need you to stay," Eric said bluntly. "Go with the others and have some sleep. I'll be fine."

Hank hesitated. In a way he wanted to leave, to run as fast as he could and keep running until he could force time to turn back. But he was the leader of the group; he couldn't afford to fail to Eric… not again.

Some minutes passed by in complete silence. Some clouds had obscured the moon outside and the room was almost dark, barely illuminated by a small candle.

"It was you who found me, right?" Eric spoke again, startling Hank.

"Yes… me and Diana."

_Stupid, stupid idiot! _Hank reproached himself, wanting to slap his head. He had spoken without thinking what he was saying. That was a very delicate issue and he had let the truth slip without any consideration. What a lousy leader he was turning to be… The last thing Eric needed in that moment was to be embarrassed even more than he was.

"Diana?" Eric asked after a moment of silence, his voice slightly shaken. "Did she… see me inside that dungeon?"

"Uh… yes… I mean, we were helping you, Eric. Please don't feel ashamed. We only wanted to help you."

_Please don't feel ashamed? Was that the best you could come up to? You asshole! I should just let Diana take care of everything. This is all my fault…_

"What about… Sheila?" Eric asked with his voice trembling. "Did she see me too?"

"N-no…" _Great, now you lie. _"She was outside, keeping Bobby away…"

"So Sheila did too…"

"Eric, I'm so sorry… I shouldn't have—"

"I would like to be alone."

"I understand what you feel but I would prefer to stay here tonight, in case you need anything." _I understand what you feel? Of course I don't… How could I? I would never want to understand it… Am I being cruel for thinking this way?_

"The only thing I need is a little privacy. Is that too much to ask?"

Shit… It was dark, but Hank was certain that there were tears coming from Eric's eyes.

"Eric…"

"Just leave!" Eric snapped, his voice completely broken.

Hank opened his mouth to reply but no sound came out. Suddenly words had been erased from his mind. He sighed and stood up, heading slowly toward the door.

"I'll be in the other room…" Hank said after opening the door. "If you need anything, I'll be there… We all will be there for you."

That's all he said before granting Eric's wish.

* * *

_DAY THREE_

Eric's return to consciousness was rawer than the one he had the day before. This time the state of oblivion between sleep and awakening didn't bless him. This time his sore body shouted the indignity he had suffered just some hours ago since the first moment it began to feel again.

Everything hurt, everything… Eric was afraid to open his eyes, certain that he would only see the broken carapace of what his body used to be. Memories of his recent torment translated into images more than feelings. He hadn't seen Venger's face not even once during the attack. In fact, Eric had seen nothing but the arch mage's hand, clawed around his defenseless intimacy. But just that sight had been too much. He would never forget that hand doing what it had wanted with his private parts, he would never forget the stones in the wall before him as the most intimate part of his body had been slaughtered by Venger's disgusting cock…

It was then when his brain allowed him to realize another part of his surroundings. There was something beneath him that wasn't the raspy surface of the ledge of the dungeon. There was something soft… even comfortable. Eric decided to open his eyes and found a very different ceiling from the one he was expecting. Instead of irregular stone, he found well polished dark wood, or at least it looked like that.

He wasn't in the dungeon anymore, that was for sure, starting from the fact that he was lying on an actual bed, with real blankets covering his body.

What the heck had happened? The last thing he remembered was being sure that hell existed while he was being raped by Venger again and again, and now he was alive, sore and outraged but alive, comfortably prostrated on a cozy bed.

He carefully scrutinized the room, fearing that he was not alone, but his eyes saw nothing. That didn't reassure him, though; he was beginning to understand that privacy was something that would be forbidden for him from now on.

The thought made Eric cover his head with the blanket, wishing that it could be Sheila's magic cloak instead. Thinking about her didn't ease his predicament. The memory of the beautiful Thief staring at him whilst Venger raped him would haunt him for life, he was sure. If that mirage had been Sheila indeed… Eric was sure he would have died of pure humiliation. Just the idea of somebody else knowing what had happened made him crazy.

He would have stayed under the blankets if something else hadn't disturbed him immensely. He had felt it since the moment he had awakened; he had tried to ignore it by keeping his body motionless, but he couldn't deny it anymore. Ever since his sore muscles had regained sensitivity, he had felt that wet, sticky and disgusting sensation between his buttocks.

Of course… the accursed monster had had his way with him, the _complete _cycle… Eric was somehow thankful that he hadn't been conscious to feel the moment in which Venger had ejaculated inside him.

Eric's eyes were invaded by tears. It sounded awful, yet so simple, but awful. Venger had ejaculated inside him… Just thinking about it was unbearable. Eric shook his head when he thought about his father. What would Mister President of the Huge International Company say if he knew that his only son had been sodomized by a monster? If Eric was a disappointment for him before, just thinking about what he would say now was a torment as terrible as the rape itself. What would his mother say? She would be certainly be devastated and would shelter herself in religion and alcohol, the only two things that had real importance to her. He knew what his cousin Amanda would say, though.

"_You are indeed a pussy, silky balls! I bet you enjoyed it!"_

Eric wrapped himself in the blanket and got up, determined to get rid of a little of the filthiness he could at least remove. There was a closed door in front of the bed, locked certainly, but there was another door, half open, to his right. That was his destination. He was relieved when he saw some sort of bathroom, not the kind he was used to, but considering the accommodations he had used as bathrooms during the last three years – namely the accommodations that nature provided – that room with a big, rounded tank of water seemed like paradise.

Somebody wanted him to clean himself. Venger, certainly, but Eric decided to do his best to keep the arch mage out of his thoughts as he removed the blanket of his body, sat at the edge of the primitive bathtub and tried the pristine water with one foot. It was surprisingly warm. Eric felt instant relaxation as he submerged all of his body into the momentary relief the liquid provided. He immediately rested his back on the marble behind him and assumed a fetal position.

He remained motionless for countless minutes, only half of his head outside the water, and that only because he needed to breathe. But what was the point in continuing living? He had been raped and desecrated, and considering what Venger had said about the impossibility of being rescued, he seemed destined to become Venger's sexual toy until the arch mage got tired of him and used his remains to feed his horse.

It was then when a slight smell arrived to his nose. He raised his head with mild interest and found a soap bar very close to his face. Eric frowned; that was a familiar object, despite not having seeing it for three years. It was perfectly shaped, manufactured by no man, but a machine… nothing like the rough soaps that could be found in the Realm for some coins. That soap bar was from his dimension, some cheap product that the middle class consumed, but it was from his world…

Eric felt something related to happiness for the first time since his arrival to the castle. He grabbed the soap bar carefully, almost affectionately. He took it to his nose and smelled it, feeling for a moment that he was back home. He enjoyed the smell for some seconds before starting to apply the soap bar to his body. Soon some bubbles started to appear on the surface of the water.

* * *

Venger smirked when he saw the young Cavalier sitting on his own couch. True, Venger barely used it anymore, but anyway he considered that piece of furniture his favorite, and it was very pleasant to see that the boy had chosen it from the rest of the furniture. The young human had moved the couch toward the bottom of the room, but it didn't matter. It was even more amusing that way.

He had wrapped himself in one of the blankets from the bed, although the bed itself was entirely made. That boy enjoyed order and cared about his appearance, something that highly pleased Venger.

"I see you found my little gift for you. I can smell that you did," Venger said, delighting himself with the soft perfume that the boy's skin emanated.

The Cavalier cringed a little, a sight that would never tire Venger. The young Dungeon's Master's disciple was certainly expecting his arrival, maybe not desiring it, but that would change. Venger had endless time to change that slight detail. For the moment, the boy's fear and shame were more than enough to arouse him, as aroused as Venger had never been before, that was one thing that he had to admit.

"I also hope that you will find your new accommodations pleasant. I recall that your origins are very different from your friends'. You, my young Cavalier, are not foreign to luxury."

The boy turned around, refusing to look at Venger. That only increased the monster's arousal.

"Stand up," he said. His voice had been soft but he hoped that the boy would have understood by now that his commands were to be obeyed immediately. Venger approved with his head when he saw that such was the case.

"Remove the blanket."

His prisoner hesitated, but did what ordered. Trembling hands tossed the long textile aside.

Venger laughed softly. "My dear Cavalier… you are so amusing. Is that a towel wrapped around your waist? You are really a shy boy, aren't you? That's something we need to change."

Venger didn't speak, only signaled with his finger what he wanted to see. The Cavalier blushed and bowed his head, but removed the towel and exposed his splendorous nudity.

"That's much better. Now proceed to the bed."

Venger's eyes shone maliciously when they feasted upon the sight of the perfect body of the young man heading towards the bed. Venger felt an intense and pleasant sensation between his legs as he remembered how much he had enjoyed to possess that slim but muscular body, so new to pleasure and so permeable to learn.

"Lie on your back," Venger said, starting to approach his victim.

He saw the fear and disgust reflected on the Cavalier's eyes. Nothing that disturbed Venger, though; those feelings would vanish soon, and without the need of any spell.

"Tonight we will play a little game," Venger said, leaning beside the Cavalier. "The rules are quite simple. You will keep your mouth shout, not pronouncing a single word. Fail to do so and you will learn the real meaning of pain. If that's understood, nod with your head."

The shivering young man did so. Venger sneered. The Cavalier was so terrified, so terrified indeed… once again allowing his thoughts to be read as open books. Venger saw, smelled and tasted his fear, his disgust and his contempt. The poor boy was feeling miserable, lower than a worm. All that only increased Venger's lust.

"Now close your eyes," Venger said, his order obeyed immediately. "You won't open them under any circumstance."

He allowed his body to touch the young man's skin. Venger expected the Cavalier to flinch and the boy didn't disappoint him, as he didn't disappoint either when Venger claimed the crotch of his shivering victim.

_My foolish boy… You should have already understood that your private parts are mine to do as I please, and yet you keep resisting… Teaching you will prove to be a very delightful lesson._

The Cavalier's intimacy was the most delicious fruit itself. Its dimensions and shape the most perfect thing Venger had ever seen, perhaps that was the reason why he had allowed him to live. His hand travelled through the boy's penis from tip to base, claiming every single inch of flesh as his, possessing it… The same happened with the Cavalier's testicles, so soft and yet so firm, so shaped to fit perfectly in Venger's hand.

He could hear a barely audible sob coming from the young man's throat. The poor boy, doing his best to obey what he had been commanded. Venger was pleased. He had indeed forbidden the young man to speak, but he never said anything about not moaning.

_And moan you shall do, my boy…_

It had been a while since Venger had that kind of intimacy with another being before the night in which he had given the Cavalier his attentions for the first time. Decades, actually. He occasionally raped maidens to satisfy himself, but ever since his _previous _life, he couldn't recall a single time in which he had felt devoured by lust as much as he was being devoured now. What kind of power did that inexperienced Cavalier have on him? It was intoxicating.

He smirked when he saw the good looking face of his victim grimace in both humiliation and disgust. _Ah, my boy… I know your mind is being tortured by the way your sex behaved when I touched you the first time, even though back then I only aimed for your humiliation. What will happen now, that I aim for your pleasure?_

"Spread your legs."

The Cavalier hesitated slightly, but he obeyed with short and awkward movements. Venger added his free hand to the labor he was performing on the young man's genitals. Every one of fingers devoted to rub, squeeze, pinch, pull… Soon his victim's breathing was clearly agitated, fear not being exactly his guide this time.

Venger felt a wave of lust assaulting his own groin when he saw the Cavalier's penis becoming erect, a defenseless prisoner within the arch mage's hands. It grow harder and bigger in a matter of seconds, as the hands of the young man held the blanket beneath as hard as they could.

_You are ashamed… infinitely disgusted of yourself. Because you are enjoying this, you know you are enjoying it and you hate to admit it. Now you start to cry… such a pathetic crying creature you turned to be, but how fascinating... You think about that female Thief, of how disgusted she would be if she could see you right now. Maybe I will please your fears again, but not tonight. Tonight it's only you and me, my Cavalier._

The young man's stomach started to move faster, signaling his increasing agitation. Success, Venger thought; pleasure was impossible to deny anymore, and the boy knew it. Success…

And then, the audible proof Venger was looking for. The Cavalier opened his delicious mouth and moaned.

He was ready.

"Turn around."

The Cavalier's trance weakened, but Venger would give him no time to return to his irrational fears. He helped him to roll over and lie on his stomach. Venger separated the young man's legs and kept caressing his testicles from beneath. The boy seemed to like the position, as he allowed another moan to escape.

"Good, very good my boy… Now get on your knees. Keep your legs as spread as possible without lowering your body."

Venger could feel that the Cavalier was not thinking anymore, at least not with his brain. He got to his knees and sank his face on a big pillow beneath him, his genitals dangling defenseless between his legs.

But Venger would keep them waiting; the boy needed to understand his place, after all. When his buttocks were spread, carefully this time, the Cavalier flinched somehow, but remained in the same position even when Venger was not forcing him anymore.

"_This_", Venger said, caressing softly every zone between his prisoner's legs, "is mine. You belong to me, in mind, body and spirit. Mine is your pleasure and mine is your pain."

The Cavalier moaned in response, his body tensing when Venger grasped his penis and pulled backwards.

"And _this," _Venger continued, rubbing with one finger the rim of the orifice that leaded toward the total submission of the boy, "is the seal of our arrangement. You will let me in tonight in acceptance. Whatever is happening right now, my beautiful slave, is happening with your own consent."

Venger's desire had reached its maximum level. It ached so terribly to be outside that port of pleasure, but that was something he intended to correct right now. The boy was ready to receive him.

When he leaned on the Cavalier's back, Venger could feel his fear again. Time had come to terminate it once and for all, or at least to fill it with so many other feelings that the boy would become insane trying to figure what really was happening that night.

This time, Venger chose for a careful approach. He introduced the tip of his own masculinity in the boy's orifice, feeling him wince with that first attempt.

_You feel pain… I can feel it… but there is so much you still need to learn about pain._

Venger returned his attention to the young man's hanging genitals. They were still hard, waiting to be touched again…

Inch by inch, Venger possessed his slave. He didn't remember having being so careful before, he actually didn't remember to have given anybody his full attention since the days of his previous life.

"Tell me when it hurts," Venger said. "Choose carefully, as it's the only thing I will allow you to say tonight."

The Cavalier strengthened his grip on the blankets, but remained silent, as silent as his eventual moans allowed. Venger had almost finished introducing himself inside his slave when the requested words happened.

"There…" the young man groaned. "It hurts there…"

Venger smirked and stopped momentarily, focusing his manhood in moving back and forth without piercing that invisible frontier.

"This is the threshold, young Cavalier, the thin line between pain and pleasure. Dare to cross with me, and I assure you that suffering will be nothing but a distant memory."

Moaning was the boy's response. By then, the work being performed on his genitals had reached frenetic levels. His well shaped abdominals were moving up and down so hard, announcing his ecstasy to come.

Venger held his own climax. He wanted the boy to reach it first, he wanted to see it, to feel his body tensing and quivering as he moaned his pleasure to the skies. By then, the boy's thoughts were so contradictory that Venger knew that what was about to happen couldn't be contained anymore.

He crossed the line, not caring to ask this time, but certain that the completion of the invasion would be accepted. He completely inserted himself inside the boy, making him moan in both pleasure and pain, the penis of the Cavalier expulsing his ecstasy in a potent stream of pleasure.

And he kept doing it, because Venger didn't give him any rest, because Venger claimed every bit of pleasure that young soul managed to feel that night.

_To be continued._


	4. Hope full of spikes

_Another fast update, I must be inspired._

_Thanks for your kind words, Shoys :) I wanted to include Venger's perspective but I didn't want to do it so soon, because I thought it would be more impacting focusing only in Eric's POV during the first chapters. But now it's the arch mage's turn, enjoying the submission of his slave but also entering one dangerous game. If a human mind is so complex and impossible to study thoroughly, what happens if the mind in question belongs to a certain arch mage with a troubled past and present as well… It's my intention to take a thorough journey to both Eric and Venger minds during this fic, and also to explore the personalities of some of our favorite Young Ones, who will have a lot of importance too._

_Bluetiger, thanks so much for your review! I love to receive feedback :) You are absolutely right. It's not that Venger was looking forward to get inside Eric's pants. As you said, it could have been Diana, Hank or Sheila, but Venger found a perfect way to destabilize the morale of the Young Ones and to inflict a deadly wound to the Dungeon Master. Venger feeds himself with Eric's degradation, but he should be careful; when playing with a double edged sword, anybody could get hurt. I'm very glad that more and more people are seeing that this story is not only about smut. Really, the plot will thicken and in such a way!_

_Many thanks to D. B. Cooper for correcting the grammar errors of chapter 3._

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 4**

**Hope full of spikes**

Hank placed his hand on the rough wood of the door, unable to push it open. The small bowl he was holding on his other hand trembled a bit as the Ranger slowly bowed his head.

He was reluctant to enter that room. He knew what was waiting for him inside, but still the pain was unbearable. Hank couldn't avoid blaming himself for everything that had happened. He had failed as leader and guide of the group, but most importantly, he had failed Eric. If he had been more careful, if he had made sure to keep the group together whilst the Orcs were attacking them…

Despite having the mental image of Eric in that dungeon, Hank was still in a denial state. He refused to believe what had happened, infinitely disgusted as he was. He hadn't asked for details and he certainly didn't want to know them, but he was certain that Eric had lived a living nightmare every minute of his stay in Venger's castle, submitted to horrors that surpassed the worst perversions, his dignity murdered… Hank couldn't feel sorrier for his friend, or more angered toward himself for allowing that to happen. The loss of Eric's innocence was his fault.

But he did his best effort to exhibit a warm smile on his face when he finally opened the door and entered the room.

"Good morning," he said, avoiding the awkward _How are you _question.

Eric, fully clothed with the villager outfit, was sitting in a fetal position on the bed at the bottom of the small room. He gave the blonde young man a fleeting glance before returning his attention to the half open window.

"We bought some giant clamp soup, your favorite," Hank continued. "Bobby and I had to walk almost six miles to get it, so it got cold. But Sheila warmed it for you."

"Thank you," Eric almost whispered, keeping his eyes fixated on the window.

Hank bit his lips. Fuck, he felt like an idiot… He didn't know how to address Eric, how to talk to him. In that moment, he would have done everything to take time back and recover the presumptuous, vain and loud-mouthed braggart that challenged every decision Hank made... so different from the destroyed young man that was before him right now. Hank repressed the need to close his eyes in frustration; he couldn't get rid of the image of Eric chained naked inside that dungeon, his penis trapped and tortured… How shocking, how painful it had been…

"We're staying some days more in the village," Hank continued, doing his best to sound natural. "Diana and I got some jobs to pay for these rooms; even Bobby is working, helping the lumberjacks to reach their daily quota."

"Is it because of me that you decided to stay?"

"Uh… no, of course not Eric. Of course you need to rest now, but I thought it would be better if we keep a low profile for a while. Nobody knows we are here and I would like to keep it that way."

Of course Eric knew who _nobody _was, although he didn't give any signal of having acknowledged what Hank had said.

"There is a local festivity today," Hank continued. "The villagers are celebrating the arrival of the rain season and they will throw the most important party of the year. Would you like to come?"

Eric looked at Hank for the first time during the conversation. He was visibly upset. "Do I look like I want to party?"

There it was again, the very uncomfortable feeling… Hank felt that every minute Eric was becoming more and more distant. He just couldn't recognize him anymore.

"You can't hide here forever, Eric."

"_Hide?" _Eric snapped, frowning.

"That's not what I meant… It's just that staying in this room won't do any good to you. Why don't you go outside, have some air…?"

"If I ever want your opinion, Hank, you can be sure that I will ask for it. Is there something else you wanted or you are going to stay there, invading _my_ air?"

Irony… Eric's personal trademark. But that wasn't a good sign as Hank would have wanted to believe. The old Eric could have said those same words in other circumstances, but now they sounded guided by anger, no trace of his usual acid humor.

_Oh Eric… what did Venger do to you?_

Hank had to admit his defeat. "I'll be outside, if you need anything… We all are here for you, Eric."

Eric only returned his glance to the window.

* * *

"How is he?" Sheila asked the useless question when Hank entered the living room of the little hut they had rented.

"Destroyed," Hank replied, shaking his head. "How else could he be? He doesn't want to talk, he doesn't even dare to look at me. I… I just don't know how to reach him."

"It's too soon," Sheila said. "He needs more time to recover."

"If he ever recovers, you mean," Hank said, frustrated. "How could he recover after what happened to him? It's… it's so unfair…"

Sheila put a comforting hand on Hank's arm. "It's not your fault, Hank."

The blonde young man shook his head. "It wasn't Eric's fault either! He doesn't deserve what happened to him!"

"But it happened, alright?" Diana said. "And there's nothing we can do to change that! The only thing we can do is help Eric to move on. Being sorry for him will only depress him more."

"Eh… why don't we go to take a walk? The village festival is about to start," Presto said, grabbing Bobby's hand.

"No! I want to help Eric too!" the young Barbarian replied.

Sheila kneeled and put her hands on her little brother's shoulders. "I know you want to, Bobby, we all do, but you are too young to listen to some things we are talking about right now."

"I'm too young, I'm too young! That's all you keep telling me since the day I was born! Eric is a jerk, but he's my friend too and I want to help him. What is so bad that happened to him anyway? We rescued him, didn't we? And he seems to be fine."

Sheila turned around to hide her wet eyes from her little brother. "Eric went through very difficult days, Bobby. We all have to help him feel comfortable and don't ask him any questions, do you understand? That's very important."

"Alright… geez, I wonder when the day will be when you'll stop treating me like a kid!" Bobby spat, opening the door and losing himself within the gathering crowd outside.

"Did you tell Eric about the village's festival, Hank?" Presto asked.

"Yes, but he didn't even want to hear about it."

"I insist that it's too soon…" Sheila said. "He needs his space."

"What he needs is a little taste of freedom. He spent two months locked in a dungeon, nothing but torture and four walls around him."

"I agree with you, Diana," Hank said, "but we can't drag him and force him to have such freedom. He feels very embarrassed with all of us. I suggest we leave him be. He will come to us when he feels ready."

"Yeah, and in the meantime his hair will get white, and so will ours."

"Diana, please…" Sheila said. "We can't even imagine the kind of horrors Eric suffered during all this time. Adding more pressure to his mind is not the answer."

Diana shrugged her shoulders. "Neither is pity, but alright, I won't go against the decision of the majority. I just hope Eric will get the picture before it's too late."

* * *

_DAY FOUR_

Eric remembered the day in which he had felt like a grown man for the first time in his life. It had been when he was twelve, the day he graduated from sixth grade, the memorable day in which he noticed the tiny hair that had sprouted in his pubic area.

He also remembered the day in which he had felt embarrassed by the same thing that made him so proud. It had been days before his fifteenth birthday, when his father had caught him shaping up with a pair of scissors the descendants of that first hair. His father had beaten him, called him a pussy and threatened to use those same scissors to cut his cock off, explaining to his dirty little head that only women tidied up those very private zones.

"_What's next, you idiot? Are you going to start wearing make up? Do you use your mother's dresses when she's not around? You little fag!"_

Eric didn't want to imagine what his father would do to him if he could see him in that moment as every tiny hair of his pubis was falling to the floor of Venger's bathroom.

The floating razor edge was even more disturbing. Eric knew that it would be so easy for it to start cutting flesh instead of hair. Once again, his virility was at the arch mage's mercy.

He didn't dare to look at Venger, overwhelmed by shame as he was. Eric knew he should have fought, keep resisting no matter what happened, but he had surrendered instead, allowing Venger to do whatever he had wanted with him. Was that mere survival instinct, or was it something more? Eric just didn't know. He only knew that no matter how much he struggled, Venger would force him into whatever perversions he had in mind, just as he was doing in that precise moment.

"The silence I imposed you is over," Venger told him. "You are free to speak now, Cavalier."

Eric flinched; he always did with the sound of that voice he hated so much, now more than ever. He was also beginning to understand how much control that voice had over him.

"Be careful, or you will get hurt," Venger continued, controlling with his finger the movement of the floating blade working on the young man's crotch, adding more white foam from the floating wood bowl he controlled with his other hand.

Eric did his best to remain motionless as the humiliating shaving session continued. "I… I wanted to know when I'll be allowed to leave."

Venger smirked, leaning casually on the opened door of the bathroom. "Do you wish to leave the castle? You offend me, Cavalier."

Eric bit his lips. "I did what you wanted. You… you had me as you wanted… I just want to go home, please…"

Venger chuckled. "Home? What home do you mean? The rough hills in which you and your friends wander like lost children, fooled by the empty promises of the Dungeon Master? Or, perhaps, you are talking about your _real _home?"

That did it. Eric lifted his head and looked at the arch mage, the slight hope of being back in his world again making him forget for a second the last three days, the worst of his life for sure.

"Pull up your penis."

Eric obeyed, allowing the blade to free his testicles from any trace of hair. Useless, as that part of Eric's anatomy had always been hairless, but he knew Venger was doing it only to humiliate him.

"Turn around and lean your hands on the floor. Good. Spread your legs as much as you can. More… more…"

That was so utterly degrading. Eric didn't have hair in there… _Ouch! _Okay, maybe just a little…

"Did the Dungeon Master ever mention that I have the power to open portals to other dimensions?"

Eric stopped breathing. What the heck had that demon said? Eric dared to look between his spread legs and saw Venger looking at him with lust. Oh no, nonono, Venger had finished having his way with him just some minutes ago… Even an evil, degenerate creature as that one needed some rest after raping an innocent all night, didn't he? Besides, Eric's attention had been called and he was not willing to have that conversation with his ass exposed.

He carefully returned to a standing position and turned around.

"No," he replied. "He never said anything about that."

Venger sneered, showing his fangs. "Well, it's nothing but the truth. I'm not surprised that the wicked old man decided to keep it as a secret. He plays with you and your friends with such audacity that the games you and I play seem so innocent in comparison."

_Games? _Was it that simple for the disgusting monster? Eric was going to be traumatized all his life for those three days of hell, and it was nothing but a game for Venger?

A strong stream of tepid water fell on his crotch, cleaning the remains of the foam.

"Ah, you look so much better now…" Venger approved with a mischievous smile before using his magic to throw a close towel to his prisoner. "Dry yourself."

Eric took it and began to dry his groin. "Is it true…?" he muttered. "Can you open a portal to my world?"

"Nothing could be easier. As a matter of fact, I already did it."

Eric dropped the towel, all his embarrassment forgotten before the possibility of leaving that horrible place. "W… what…? W-when?"

Venger smirked. "Do you think that soap bar you used appeared out of nowhere? Or that towel? Also the bed and the other artifacts which I made my servants bring for you come from your very own world."

"Where is that portal? Please tell me!"

"Closed, for the moment. Whether it opens again or not depends entirely on you."

Oh, there was a trick… Of course there had to be a trick. It couldn't be otherwise with Venger. "What do you mean?" Eric still asked.

"I think you know what I mean, my dear boy."

Eric bowed his head. Of course he knew… he couldn't keep playing the fool anymore, not after his ass had been pounded by Venger two nights in a row.

"So…" he said weakly, "the portal in exchange for my dignity…"

Venger burst out in laughter. "You make it sound so dramatic. You should be aware that your dignity, as you call it, is something that I can take whenever I want, whether you like it or not. You are mine now, remember? If you leave or if you stay will only depend on my mood. Surrender to me, and I may open that portal for you. Keep struggling and your fate will be so terrible that you will beg for death to release you."

Eric felt a cold chill running through his spine. In other words, he had to consent to becoming Venger's sexual toy… But even if he did, there was no guarantee that the villain would honor his word.

"Think about it. You have the rest of your life to decide. I have to go now to attend to my matters. Please make yourself comfortable during my absence. You can wander through this wing of the castle as you please, but I want you here as soon as the moon starts shinning. Did you understand?"

"Y-yes…" Eric muttered, totally overwhelmed by all the thoughts that were fighting inside his mind.

"Did you say something, boy?" Venger said darkly.

Eric bowed his head; his hands were trembling. "Yes… Master," he said, defeated.

"Much better. Every living being in any universe has a dog and has an owner, Cavalier. Now you know your role."

That's the last thing Venger said before vanishing.

Eric's tears fell down his cheeks as a pathetic testament of his dignity. He was being weak and he knew it. But what else could he do? He depended on Venger now, in body and soul, as the demon had said. He knew one thing for sure, though; he wasn't worthy of being called Cavalier anymore.

_To be continued._


	5. Innocence lost

_This is my longest chapter so far. I started to re watch the entire series to have a more fresh approach to the characters and also to the atmosphere of the Realm. I was very happy to find canon material that will justify some of the events that will happen later in this story :D_

_Wow, thanks Shoys, you certainly know how to make me feel good XD I love to read and to write, although I do it better in my natural language. Anyway, I'm doing my best to give you guys an entertaining story._

_D. B. Cooper, thanks so much for your help for last chapter's typos. I also remember that Eric mentioned a couple of times how he didn't get along with his father, an important detail that was very helpful when I imagined this story._

_Bluetiger, thanks so much for your insightful reviews. Indeed Eric is in a very altered state of mind right now, although he's still in that peace before the storm phase. His friends definitely want to help him, but they don't know how to do it. I think Diana would be one to actually do something to help him react, even if she has to shake him a bit in the process. Lol, if you didn't want the second part of last chapter to stop, then I think you will like what I prepared for this update ;)_

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* * *

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**Chapter 5**

**Innocence lost**

Eric grimaced when he heard the door opening. Hank again? Couldn't Mister Perfect understand that he wanted to be left fucking alone? He turned around from his place at the edge of the bed, from which he had been staring outside the window for hours, not really looking at anything.

"Oh… it's only you," he said with apathy when he saw Uni entering the room.

The little unicorn headed towards him, emitting a cheerful bleat as greeting.

"What are you doing here, little pest? Go with Bobby instead, you will have more fun with him… Oh, why do I bother? It's not like you can actually understand me."

Eric had never had what he could call a friendly relationship with Uni. The little beast loved to eat his breakfast every time he got distracted, not to mention that she had the annoying habit of bleating on his ear - or doing whatever unicorns did - every time Eric had the chance to take a nap.

Uni stood before Eric and bleated again with her distinctive baby-like tone. Eric had heard that sound thousands of times, but suddenly it sounded so unique. He realized that he hadn't seen the tiny unicorn in a long time, just as he hadn't seen his friends either, except for Hank and Presto.

"You… you look a little bigger since the last time I saw you," he stammered, feeling a lump in his throat. _Shit, men don't cry… men don't cry... even men like me... _

The little unicorn bleated again. Bobby used to say that Uni was very perceptive and could understand everything that happened around her. Could it be that she was feeling Eric's sadness? Was that the reason for her presence there?

Uni approached and licked Eric's hand. "Eeew, stop that! Who knows how many microbes that tongue of yours has?"

Uni seemed to laugh and licked Eric again. "So you too came to pity the former Cavalier in disgrace… At least you didn't come with fake smiles and a condescending attitude. If I would like that I would go to my mother… You are so lucky that you can't speak, did you know that?"

Eric frowned. "Why do I bother talking to you?" he snapped before turning around, hoping that Uni would see how a lousy company he was and would leave to look for Bobby or somebody else.

He felt something pulling his trousers. "Hey, stop that. These are the only pants I have now."

Uni continued biting and pulling backwards as hard as her little strength allowed her to.

"I told you to stop!"

The baby unicorn bleated, releasing Eric's pants in the process. Then she looked toward the window. Outside, some fireworks were starting to crackle.

"Oh yeah, the village's celebration… Why don't you go there and bother someone else?"

Uni bit his pants again in response. "I'm not going with you, no way!"

Another set of fireworks was shot, sounding closer this time. Eric was seriously considering kicking the little pest away when suddenly the room was illuminated by the effects of the party outside.

"I guess I can take you there…" Eric grumbled whilst he picked up his boots, "otherwise you will get lost and I don't want everybody jumping at me when you end being the dinner of some nasty creature with bad taste. You were never very bright, after all."

* * *

Sheila made good use of the pause of the music to try to catch her breath. It was so relieving to have some fun after so many dark days. First, it had been the anguish of having no clue of how to rescue Eric from Venger's castle, and now the horrible reality they all were being forced to face… But it felt so good to dance with Hank again; it felt so good to feel his arms around her waist.

Her friends also seemed to be having a good time. Diana was reaching the end of her patience with Presto, not managing to teach him how to dance with the minimal amount of grace, and Bobby was laughing candidly as he uselessly tried to learn how to play a musical horn, the village's traditional instrument.

She missed those times. She just wished Eric could share that happiness too.

Presto bumped into the branch of a tree during his dancing attempts and ended face down in a pile of leaves. He got up laughing, half of his face still covered with leaves, but suddenly he froze, staring at the nearby road.

Sheila followed his glance, freezing too as she saw Eric standing just some meters away from the group.

She was not the only one. All her friends were in shock. Fortunately the surrounding music and the happy villagers dancing minimized the very uncomfortable moment. Sheila felt like crying; she hadn't seen Eric since they had rescued him from that dungeon…

"Well, finally!" Diana said, approaching Eric and giving him a friendly slap at the shoulder. "We were wondering when your Royal Highness would join us. Come and sit with us plebeians."

Eric flinched with the gesture, but Diana didn't seem to notice. "No, I… I just came to bring Uni. She was lost or something… I better go back now."

"Oh, come on!" Diana insisted. "We haven't seen each other in a long time, Eric. Is this the way you say hello?"

Eric hesitated, but before he could reply Bobby embraced him by the waist. "Hey! I never thought I would say this, but I'm so happy to see you, Eric! I really missed you. Did you miss us too?"

Sheila could notice how disturbed Eric was by that innocent contact. Obviously he was very reluctant about being touched after two months of only receiving physical contact guided by pervert purposes.

"Give Eric some space, Bobby," she said, trying to sound indifferent. "Why don't you come and sit with us, Eric? Presto managed to create something related to marshmallows and we were about to toast them."

Eric stared at her, only to immediately avert his glance. Despite the night, Sheila could see he was blushing. Poor Eric… of course he was ashamed. What else could he feel after what happened? Suddenly, the image of the formerly loud-mouthed Cavalier hanging naked in that dungeon returned to Sheila again… It had been the first time she had seen a naked man, and she knew she would never be able to forget it. She couldn't bear the thought and turned around, praying to have the strength to keep her tears locked.

The moment reached its peak concerning awkwardness. Not even Hank was doing anything to save the day, but before everything turned into a complete disaster, Diana seized Eric's arm.

"Presto is such a lousy dance partner. Would you mind showing him how to move with some rhythm, Eric?"

"I don't feel like dancing."

Diana sighed. "Alright, alright. What do you say if we get those marshmallows toasted, then? I'm hungry," she said, guiding Eric toward a fallen trunk before a bonfire and forcing him to sit down.

Eric winced, making Sheila having another revelation. It had hurt him… just sitting had hurt him. Sheila didn't dare to imagine why.

Once again, Diana didn't seem to notice anything out of the normal. The Acrobat was very observant, so distraction wasn't her motive. Sheila appreciated her friend's efforts to help Eric in her own very particular way, but still Sheila believed that Eric needed comfort more than he needed to be treated as if nothing had happened.

But when Hank and Bobby joined the pair with six marshmallows nailed on sticks, she had to comply and accept that it could work. Some average fun time wouldn't harm Eric.

She sat on a rock in front of Diana, Eric and Presto. She couldn't help to notice that Eric was avoiding looking at her by all means.

"How are you doing now, Eric?" Bobby asked, being the first one to put his marshmallow into the fire. "Did Venger beat you pretty badly?"

"Bobby!" Sheila scolded her brother. "Don't bother Eric with questions, please."

Bobby seemed surprised. "But why? He's alright now, see? I just want to know how the dungeons of Venger's castle are…"

"I said it was enough, Bobby!" Sheila spat, seeing that Eric had bowed his head and was looking at the bonfire with a very sad expression.

"Why don't we toast those marshmallows?" Presto managed to speak, uselessly trying to end the awkward moment.

"Cold."

All stares fixated on Eric.

"The dungeons are cold, especially when you only have your own shame to cover yourself," Eric spoke again. "Is there anything else you want to know, any of you?"

Nobody dared to speak.

"That's what I thought," Eric said, standing up.

Diana stood up too and grabbed Eric's arm. "Wait. Where are you goin—?"

Eric retired his arm roughly. "Don't touch me! Don't you ever touch me again, did you understand? That goes for all of you!"

Without waiting for an answer, Eric turned around and entered the woods.

"Eric, wait!" Bobby yelled, starting to follow his friend.

"Let him go, Bobby," Hank said, stopping the Barbarian by grabbing his arm. "He needs to be alone. Sheila was right… it was too soon for him."

* * *

Fools… stupid fools… What did they know? With their shining grins and their exposed hypocrisy… they could go and fuck themselves as far as Eric was concerned.

The sharp spines of the berry bushes were not being gentle with him, but Eric didn't care. He opened his way through them, not paying any attention to the scratches they were opening on his hands and arms. But when one of them pierced his clothes and opened a gash at his forearm, he couldn't avoid thinking that he certainly could have used his shield at that moment.

He shook his head. Fuck his shield. He didn't want to think about its location, not now, not ever.

After many minutes of walking frenetically, he reached a tall tree at the top of the hill and leaned against it, closing his eyes. The fresh nocturnal breeze caressed his face, giving him something resembling peace. Only then Eric realized that he hadn't been in those woods for what it seemed like an eternity.

The distant fireworks continued their colorful symphony, bringing happiness to so many anonymous villagers. Eric envied them, so comfortable in their simple lives…

He didn't hear any sound, but he immediately felt he wasn't alone anymore. What the fuck did he have to do to be left alone?

"I was wondering when you would show up," Eric said with a grimace of disdain.

The small figure appeared from the other side of the tree. "Your perception has increased since the last time we spoke, Cavalier."

"Is that the best you could come up with? How much time did you spend preparing that line?" Eric snarled, looking with a frown at Dungeon Master.

The little man smiled weakly. "Not as much as I would have wanted, Cavalier. I wish I had the words you need to hear."

"What I need is for you to leave, that's what I need."

"Your confusion is understandable, my disciple, but don't let it blind you, even less allow it to turn into rage."

Eric sighed with annoyance. "Alright, point taken… Why don't you go and bother Hank and the others? I'm sure they could use some of your wisdom."

The Dungeon Master put his hands over his chubby belly. "Wisdom doesn't come from, as you said, _bothering. _Wisdom comes from experience, but most of all from maturity. Life is not an easy task, Cavalier. It challenges us at every corner, sets traps… but wisdom can be found even under the most adverse conditions."

_Oh yeah… I got a lot of wisdom indeed; I learned that I can take it up the ass ten times a night. Now that's wisdom!_

"Don't you ever get tired of saying always the same nonsense? What… _wisdom_ could I obtain from the hell I lived? Do you have any idea of what I went through, little man, do you?"

The Dungeon Master's face reflected deep sadness. "I could feel your pain, Cavalier, every time it happened…"

Eric grimaced and shook his head. "Oh really? I doubt it… I doubt you have the slightest clue of what I was feeling, so anything you say about the matter is not only annoying but useless. Keep your weird advices to yourself because I never requested them!"

The Dungeon Master bowed his head. "I wish you would allow me to help you…"

"Unless you can erase the last two months of my life, I suggest you disappear the same way you appeared. What do I have to do to be left alone, damn it?" Eric cried, staring at the now empty space beside him.

* * *

_DAY FIVE_

Eric peeked carefully at the corridor, ready to test his speed at the minimal signal of danger, but once again all he found was loneliness. There wasn't anybody around, not even a bug. That didn't displease him, of course.

He had walked through six corridors at least, finding nothing more but torches and torches scattered through the walls. He thought about returning to the room Venger had assigned for him, but the memory of everything that had happened there made him shiver. Any other place would better than that damned cage of depravation.

He stepped on something sharp and retreated, jumping on one foot while he rubbed the other one. The sudden movement made him loose the towel he had wrapped around his waist, but he immediately seized it and secured it around his nudity again, thankful that there was nobody there to witness his predicament.

Eric had found some doors during his walk. He had opened all of them but hadn't found anything of interest. All the rooms were almost empty, nothing but debris or old carpets inside.

In the current corridor, however, he found something that called his attention. It was a black wooden door, bigger and very different from all the others. It certainly had something valuable behind. His shield and clothes, perhaps? Or maybe the portal to his world…

Eric tried to open it but he couldn't even move it. He leaned all his weight and pushed with all his strength but it was no use. He gave the door a kick before giving up. Perhaps he couldn't open it right now, but he would find a way.

He continued trudging through that corridor, hopeful that the black door wasn't the only thing of interest in that zone of the castle. He wasn't mistaken, as he saw the distant light.

He went towards the source, stopping on his tracks when his eyes were dazzled by the potent yellow light of the sun beams.

_Sun?_ There was an open space somewhere at the end of that corridor! Eric ran so fast that he dropped the towel covering him, but he didn't care this time. The possibility of finding an exit was so intoxicating at that moment that modesty was the last thing on his mind.

Immediate relief took over when he stepped under the threshold of the big entrance. There was a big garden before him, so green and leafy that it couldn't belong to Venger's castle anymore. The thought of escaping was instantaneous. His feet stepped on the soft grass, anxiously looking for freedom. Inebriated with hope, it took many minutes for Eric to realize that he was not getting anywhere. If there was an exit of that garden, he was definitely not close.

"This is even bigger than my backyard," he said to himself, thinking about the huge green fields of his mansion.

When he suspected for the third time that he was walking in circles, he decided to climb a tree to have a better view of his surroundings. He had became very good in the art of climbing trees in those three years in the Realm, but very soon he realized that doing it naked was a very bad idea. Without the armor of his legs, every time he supported his weight on his bare feet to climb higher was a very painful experience.

Finally he reached a tall and thick branch that seemed strong enough to support his weight. Panting because of the effort, Eric glanced through the foliage, only to see more and more trees around him. He couldn't see Venger's castle anymore, but that brought him little relief. He was sure that he was very far away from being safe, still locked in whatever that damn garden was.

A soft touch on his leg made him look down. When he saw the eight legged creature walking on his bare thigh he lost all control over his body, not to mention that he completely forgot he was thirty feet above the ground. He jerked so hard – shit, how he hated spiders! – that he lost his balance, realizing his mistake only when he couldn't feel the rough branch beneath his ass.

"FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" was the last thing he cried before hitting the ground with a resounding thud.

* * *

Why the hell was he still alive was the first thing Eric thought after regaining consciousness. Perhaps it had been the branches; he remembered countless and thin branches whipping his body as he was descending like at a thousand miles per hour to the ground. Painful, but it seemed that they had considerably softened his fall.

The other question was why he was on his back, comfortably covered by a rustic but warm blanket. He tried to get up immediately, only to hit his head with the ceiling above him.

_Ceiling? _

He was not in the garden anymore, but in some sort of small hut, designed for someone of a smaller size, as the aching pain in his head indicated.

"Ah, I'm so glad to see you woke up. You spent hours unconscious."

Eric jumped and hit his head again. He turned around frenetically and found a small old man with a bowl on his hands standing very close to him.

"W-who… who are you?" the Cavalier managed to ask, rubbing his very sore head.

"Perhaps you should consider lying down again. You took a strong hit out there. For a moment I feared for your life."

Eric stepped back until his back touched the rough wall behind him. "Who are you? Why did you save me? How did you bring me here?"

The old man grinned and offered the bowl to Eric. "Too many questions to be answered at the same time. Please sit and have this; it will make you feel better. And erm… perhaps you would be interested in covering yourself?"

Eric glanced downwards and was welcomed by the familiar sight of his nakedness. He immediately grasped the blanket from the bed and wrapped it around his body. Gee, he would have killed for some pants!

The old man chuckled. His wrinkled face was so familiar. Eric couldn't help to have a slight ray of hope. _Could it be…? I mean, the old man has disguised himself before…_

"Dungeon Master?" he carefully asked.

The old man only smiled. "No, I'm afraid I'm not who you are looking for. Believe me, the one you call Dungeon Master hasn't been in this garden for centuries."

Eric frowned. "Then who are you? You better start explaining yourself, little man."

"There's not too much to explain, young one. My name is Ishtar, and I'm the caretaker of the Master's garden."

Disappointment ran through Eric's body like a second blood. "The Master? Are we still in Venger's dominion, then?"

"Of course we are. Everything that your eyes can see belongs to the Master."

_Yeah, including me…_

"What happened to your clothing, young one?"

Eric glanced at the old man with annoyance. Was that midget mocking him? Perhaps he knew what had happened to Eric inside Venger's castle, perhaps everybody knew by now.

But the man didn't seem to be mocking him. His face was kind and reassuring, just as the Dungeon Master's face. Eric wondered if that dwarf was also nuts and was going to start talking weird as the Dungeon Master always did.

"Please have this," Ishtar continued after a pause. "It will make you feel better."

"What is it?"

"Just some warm soup. Not very tasty but I can see you need it. When was the last time you ate something?"

Suddenly Eric realized he hadn't eaten in four days. His stomach had been complaining certainly, but he had been too busy feeling miserable to take care of that slight detail, not to mention that there was nothing resembling food in Venger's castle, except for the bugs of course, but he wasn't so desperate as to start to eat insects or spiders.

So he sat awkwardly on the small bed and accepted the bowl from that Ishtar character. The soup tasted like feet, but the starving young man devoured it as it had been the most delicious delicacy he had ever tasted. For a moment the thought of being poisoned crossed his mind, but he discarded it immediately. That sad imitation of the Dungeon Master wouldn't have saved him if he was intending to kill him. Besides, at that point Eric didn't care what happened with him anymore.

"More… please," he said when he finished, ashamed of his poor etiquette behavior but fortunately nobody else was around to see him, just that small old man who certainly didn't look like anybody of Eric's former social circle.

"Of course, but don't choke yourself this time," the old man said, walking to a primitive pot over a bonfire to fill the bowl again.

Eric took a glance at his surroundings. Besides the bed and the small bonfire, there was nothing but a torch, a table and two very rustic chairs.

"You said you were the caretaker of this place, right?" he asked. "What exactly do you take care of?"

"The garden."

Eric doubted that the little old man could take care of such a big expanse of garden – woods would have been a better definition, but he didn't say anything about it. His worries were very different. "Does Venger come here often?"

"No," Ishtar replied as he gave Eric the bowl full of soup. "Never."

"Why do you care, then?"

"The Master wants to maintain the appearance of this garden as he remembers it."

"As he remembers it? What do you mean?" Eric asked, taking a small sip of the soup.

The old man grinned. "You ask too many questions, young one."

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly being very clear here… Anyway, I never thought Venger would have a place like this inside his castle. I could picture a dead garden filled with vermin and gnomes – no pun intended – but definitely not this."

"There are many things you ignore about the Master, young one."

Eric took a deep gulp of the soup, making his stomach a very happy stomach. Suddenly he remembered something.

"Oh shit! What time is it?" he said, almost dropping the bowl.

"Dusk is beginning to fall. Why?"

Eric jumped off the bed, hitting his head again on the low ceiling. But this time he didn't even feel the pain. "Oh shit, he's going to kill me if I don't arrive in time! Which way to the castle? Please tell me!"

Ishtar grinned and pointed to the small door beside him. "Go to the North. You will see the castle as soon as you enter the clearing."

Eric hurried to the door, throwing the blanket aside and almost tearing down the torch with his abrupt movement.

"I have to run now. Thanks for the soup!" he said as he disappeared into the grayish light outside.

* * *

Shit and double shit.

Eric cursed himself for the umpteenth time as he walked through the umpteenth corridor. They were all the same, but he was sure he had been in that one before…

Why the hell hadn't he marked them, as Hank always insisted? As much as he made fun of Hank's ways, Eric wished he would have followed that one in particular. He was completely lost and the night was starting to fall. What would happen when Venger returned to the room to find it empty was something that Eric definitely didn't want to know.

The idea of returning was just as attractive, though. He had, actually, stood beneath the threshold of the castle's entrance just some minutes ago, hesitating about what to do. Eric knew that the only thing waiting for him inside the castle was Venger's lust. The accursed monster would certainly rape him and would manage to come up with something new to humiliate him. Whatever the option, Eric was doomed.

But he had finally made up his mind and had entered the castle, picking up his fallen towel and wrapping it around his waist, a useless precaution as he already knew.

Night had definitely fallen when he entered the corridor number one thousand and one. Okay, maybe there were not so many but Eric felt that way, desperate to get the hell out of that maze, although not desperate to find Venger.

A screechy sound to his right made him jump. A door, an open door… Not the door of the room he was looking for and certainly not the mysterious black door; it was a simple door, one of the many he had found closed before. Or maybe not… they all looked the same way.

He was about to leave, but curiosity dragged him like magnet. He carefully sneaked inside, relaxing when he saw nothing but a lonely torch and a big red carpet on the floor.

Eric got inside the room, allowing his bare feet to step on the soft carpet, a very welcome change from the rough stones of the corridors. Perhaps he could stay there, at least some minutes. The carpet was very comfortable and the reduced dimensions of the room decreased his fear of being attacked at every corner. He considered it for a moment but decided against it. Venger had been very clear about obedience and Eric was not ready to give him any excuses to teach him that infamous definition of real pain.

He was about to leave when he noticed the door was closed.

"Lie down."

Eric startled. He knew Venger appeared out of nowhere but still the monster kept scaring Eric's guts every time he did it.

"V-Venger! I… I mean, Master… I didn't know you were here…"

"You rely too much in your eyes. Perhaps you would be better without them."

_No fucking way! He's pissed, what can I do? Think, Eric, think! You don't want to lose your eyes!_

"I… I'm very sorry… I got lost… I was trying to return to the room as you said, I swear I did my best."

"Obviously, you didn't try hard enough," Venger spat, his eyes shining with malice. "Discipline is something you tend to forget, I can see that now. Did I or did I not order you to lie down?"

Eric fell on his knees immediately, terrified by a possible display of the arch mage's anger, but also terrified for what would happen next.

He stayed in that position for a couple of _very_ long and uncomfortable minutes. Venger hadn't moved. He was sitting on a throne-like chair at the other extreme of the room – where the heck had that chair came from?

"Remove the towel."

"O…of course," Eric stammered, throwing the towel aside. Venger liked to have him naked to increase his control over him, Eric had that very clear already.

What was next? Would he be ordered to get on his fours? Would Venger chain him to the ceiling again to rape the hell out of him?

"Touch yourself."

Now that was a new one.

"W-what?" Eric stammered.

"Touch your sex, slowly at first. I want to see you pleasing yourself."

Masturbating in front of that evil demon? No fucking way!

"B-but… I don't feel like it."

Eric closed his eyes as soon as he finished speaking. He was afraid his head would roll at any moment. Fuck… why did he have to be so stubborn? He already knew how the game worked but he just couldn't manage to accept it. How could he accept to be abused like that? It was too much… it was so unfair.

An image suddenly assaulted Eric's mind. An image of himself… on his knees, his face half sank in the pillow, his mouth moaning in disturbing pleasure as he ejaculated…

_Oh no, not that, not that! _It had been real, as much as he had tried to keep it away from his mind, now it was being forced into his mind the same way Venger had forced his body.

"You are your own worst enemy," Venger spoke. "Accept it and embrace your real self. You reached ecstasy under my touch and that is killing you. Right now, as you shiver, you want me inside of you."

No, that wasn't true… Venger was playing with him, teasing him with so much cruelty… How could he want to be raped? How could anybody?

"Touch yourself, boy, and release your pleasure for me. Fail to do so and the light of tomorrow's sun will shine over your remains. I have the rest of the night to kill you, and believe me when I say that I will take my time."

Panic took control. Eric had never heard Venger's voice so full of anger. It had finally happened. Eric had provoked the arch mage's rage and it depended on him to make it disappear.

With his semen…

His shivering hands headed towards his crotch, sterile drops of sweat moistening both his fingers and genitals. Perhaps it would be better to die, to finish that torment for once and for all. He didn't know how much time he would spend there. Venger could be lying about the portal and their tacit arrangement. Perhaps he would stay there months, years, being nothing more than a sexual toy… a whore. What kind of life would that be? Yes, perhaps death was a much more merciful option.

But his hands acted against his will and started to rub his flaccid penis. Why was he doing it? It wasn't a spell this time, it had never been. He was weak, weaker every second. He had allowed fear to dominate him and had completely surrendered to Venger. Eric wasn't even the one to call the shots about his own life anymore.

"Is that the best you can do? I must say I'm very disappointed."

Eric closed his eyes and increased the strength of his movements. What he needed was something to arouse him; an image, anything. It was so bizarre, but his life depended of that single and unique masturbation. What a degrading deadline it was.

Nothing came to his mind, though. He was far too scared and disgusted of himself to open any door to pleasure. Another door opened, however; the door of humiliation.

"_Get the fuck out of here, Amanda! Get out!"_

"_Oooh my… This is so amusing! Your balls are like HUGE!"_

"_Don't you have any respect for privacy? Get the fuck out!"_

"_Ha ha ha ha, you're such a pussy, silky balls! You have really huge balls! Either that, or your hands are pretty small! No matter how much you try to cover yourself, I still can see your wheenie!"_

"_Just leave— ooouch!"_

"_Oops, next time you try to get out of the bathtub in a rush be careful not to step on the soap! But I appreciate the new sight. You have a cute ass!"_

"_You'll pay for this, you bitch!"_

"_Oooh… what's that? Are you getting hard? You are a sick pervert, cousin! Auntie, auntie, come quickly! Eric is having a boner!"_

Eric returned to reality with a furious moan. He was so submerged into the memory of the infamous episode with his cousin Amanda that he didn't notice the erection he had between his legs, just as it had happened that day…

* * *

So the boy enjoyed humiliation. Venger had suspected it since the first moment, seeing him cowering in fear, his modesty taking his embarrassment to extreme levels… all of that a natural aphrodisiac for the arch mage.

Add to it that the boy was a piece of beauty himself and there it was, the perfect subject to becoming Venger's slave.

_And that's what you will be, Cavalier, my slave for the rest of your life._

The erection between the boy's legs was beautiful to see, but Venger could still feel shyness and hesitation coming from his troubled mind. It wouldn't harm, Venger thought, to help the dedicated young man a little…

He materialized an image of the female Thief very close to the Cavalier. The beating of the boy's heart increased as soon as he noticed her, his mind not wondering if she was real or not, too busy producing lustful sensations.

However, the Cavalier seemed hesitant about what to do. He needed a little push, just a little…

"Release your sperm for me," Venger spoke through the mirage's mouth, his voice sounding as soft as silk. "Do it for me, Eric."

That did it. The Cavalier expressed his lust with a frenetic moan but more with the increase of his handjob. His penis was hitting his stomach so hard that Venger wondered if he was hurting himself. Perhaps he was, but perhaps he was also learning to accept pain as part of pleasure.

Venger delighted himself with the image of the boy masturbating with so much intensity. Whether he was being dominated by his survival instinct or his unleashed teenage lust, it didn't matter. It was the dance of his beautiful genitals that mattered. Venger had to make a big effort to avoid pouncing at the boy and possessing him again. There would be time for that later, plenty of time.

Oh yes… this boy was proving to be such a delight to teach. _Dungeon Master, you never realized the diamond you had under your mantle… Now it's too late. He's mine, and I know you know it too._

He could feel the not so distant sadness, the tacit reproach. Venger smirked, just as he did every time his father disapproved of his darkness.

_If you care so much for him, why don't you come and save him? You could do it if you wanted. There's no such thing as a closed door for you, even in this castle… Come and help your Cavalier. The poor lad is suffering so much._

As if he could hear his thoughts, the young human moaned in conflicted ecstasy as he reached his anticipated orgasm. How easy it had been… his incipient youth as delicate as a flower stripped from its petals. And as torn petals his innocence would decay, Venger would make sure of that.

_It's done, old man. You just lost your most valuable disciple. The Cavalier is entirely mine. And this time I didn't even have to lay a finger on him._

_

* * *

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_To be continued._


	6. Underwater

_Another long update! Thanks guys for your support. I'm glad you are enjoying this story._

_Shoys, causing chills is one of the intentions of this fic ;) And you are absolutely right. I named the gardener Ishtar because of the Mesopotamian origin of the name – although my character is male. There will be no relationship whatsoever with the deity, I just picked that name because the series had used Mesopotamian references before._

_Firestorm, thanks for your honestly, lol. I'm glad that my story is causing you so many enjoyable reactions. I hope that you will be able to find relief very soon. In the meantime, I'll let Venger know you are available ;)_

_Bluetiger, I think we are in the same mind tune concerning this story. You are catching all the hints I'm giving, as well as all those little details that point toward Eric's next phase. Recovery or perdition can have a very thin line as separation, and right now Eric is wandering in that line. Kudos for pointing that Dungeon Master still called Eric 'Cavalier'. Eric's identity and his own role within the group is very conflicted right now, as we will see in following chapters. And Venger… well, what can we say about such a fascinating character? I think he's getting obsessed with dominating and owning every small aspect of Eric, physical and mental. That could be satisfying, but also tricky. Let's see what happens :)_

_D. B. Cooper. Thanks again for your help with last chapter's grammar mistakes. I can understand that being a straight guy you are not fond of male to male scenes, but every bit of smut of this story has an intention. _

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**Chapter 6**

**Underwater**

It was so peaceful down there, barely any sound around him. If he opened his eyes he could see some bubbles, but he preferred to keep them closed. He would have wanted to stay like that forever, and for a moment he considered it. It would be so easy to just let himself go – he had done it before – and accept whatever that may come, only that this time oblivion would be the only thing waiting for him at the other side.

Eric took out his head from the big barrel of water, rubbing his soaked face with his hands and shaking his hair right afterwards. Countless drops of water were scattered all around him, along with his fleeting suicidal thoughts. What would be the point of drowning himself, anyway? Nothing would erase what had happened and he wasn't even man enough to decide the course of his own life, he had never been.

"Eric?"

He turned around and almost dropped the rustic towel in his hands.

* * *

Diana saw Eric arrive from the window when the first light of the day started to color everything with its distinctive pale tone. Her immediate feeling was relief, but soon was replaced by annoyance. She and Hank had spent the entire night awake waiting for his return. At the end, Hank had decided to go look for Eric in the woods. His intention had been to go alone, but Sheila had awakened and said she would go with him. Soon also Bobby and Presto insisted to join, and in a matter of minutes the small search party had left the village with the mission of returning with the missing Cavalier. Diana had stayed behind to guard the hut.

When she noticed that Eric had no plans to get inside, she decided to confront him. She found him outside, at the back of the hut, washing his face with the clean water of the barrel Hank and Presto had gotten the day before.

Diana thought about leaving. Eric hadn't seen her yet and she certainly didn't want to invade his privacy, but when he removed his shirt and submerged his face in the water, exposing the whitish lines on his back, Diana's feet felt fixated to the ground.

Scars… caused certainly by a whip that had brutally punished the defenseless body of the Cavalier. Diana felt a chill thinking about what her friend had gone through. All that she wanted was to recover the old Eric, to hear him whimpering or complaining, to see him scolding Presto because he couldn't scold anybody else, to hear him bragging about how handsome and rich he was…

Diana sighed. Eric had just returned to them and she knew that it was too soon to expect him to act even a little like his old self. It was just like the scars on his back. Once they had been wounds, but they were closed now; perhaps leaving their eternal distinctive mark for life, but they were not open and bleeding anymore. Eric would heal just the same. Someday he would be strong enough to look back and face all of his scars with courage and dignity, the same dignity that had been stripped from him.

Diana knew one thing, though. Eric didn't need pity, and even less to be reminded about his tragedy all the time through all those awkward dialogues and silences that would only make him feel more uncomfortable. Hank insisted that they all needed to try to understand what Eric was feeling, but Diana believed that it was more important to actually be with him, treating him as an equal and not as a victim.

But it was hard not to think about Eric as a victim as Diana contemplated, in the shape of those scars, some of the traces of the physical damage Eric had received. But as terrible as they were, they were certainly not as bad as the damage in Eric's mind, more like open wounds than scars.

She frowned and decided to make herself visible when she saw that Eric's head had been inside the water for too long. But before she could reach him he went out by himself.

"Eric?" she said carefully.

He startled, almost dropping the rustic towel he had in his hands. When he saw her he used the fabric to half cover his bare torso, clearly ashamed. Diana had seen Eric shirtless many times before, but that was another thing that could be divided before and after the Venger incident… Of course Eric had to be very uncomfortable with anything regarding his body right now and she couldn't blame him for that. After the condition in which he had been found in that dungeon, it was logical to think that his self-esteem had been murdered, to say the least.

"I was washing my face," Eric said curtly. "What do you want?"

The concerned look on Diana's face transformed immediately into one of clear annoyance. "Oh nothing, just to know where the hell you were last night. We waited hours for you and you never cared to show up! Would you mind telling me where you spent the night?"

_Sorry Eric, but if you are expecting a condescending attitude, you're being scolded by the wrong girl._

Eric frowned. "In the woods. Why? Is there a problem with that?"

"Actually there is. In case you forgot, we always spend the nights together. We could have used your guard shift last night, you know?"

"You were perfectly fine without my guard shift for the last two months and I'm sure yesterday wasn't the exception. It's not that you really needed me."

Diana frowned too. "What about this other piece of information, then? We were deadly worried about you! Did that thought ever crossed your mind, you jerk?"

Now that had been rude… but now more than ever she needed to be firm with Eric, motivate him to react with something else than depression.

He wasn't in the mood for arguing, obviously. He continued drying his chest with slow apathy. "I guess I didn't think about that."

"Of course you didn't. You never do. It's always the Eric show for you, isn't it? Well, newsflash pal, we are a group and nobody is more important than the other. You were away for a while, but I'm sure you still remember that, don't you?"

Eric bit his lips before replying. "Yes, Ma'am. Are you going to keep pestering me the rest of the morning or can I finish my business here?"

Diana smiled to herself. Eric's annoyance was a very good signal. "I'm done for the day, but I'll restart if you don't meet me inside in five minutes."

"What for?"

Diana pointed at Eric's arms and hands, covered with dozens of small gashes. "Just look at all those scratches. A little advice here: next time you see a berry bush bumping into you, dodge it."

"You're so funny…" Eric said, letting out some of his characteristic sarcasm; it sounded like music to Diana's ears.

"Meet me after you finish washing yourself, then, unless you want to get an ugly infection, of course," she said, turning around and trying to sound assertive.

* * *

Exactly eight minutes later Eric was sitting on the chair beside Diana's. The Acrobat was treating his scratches with a curative ointment she had bought from the witch doctor.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, carefully applying the ointment.

"No."

He was lying, his arms had several reddish lines. But perhaps he was so used to pain to care about some scratches.

"Your room is too spacious just for one person," Diana said, taking a discreet glance at the door behind her. "We are all very tight in the other room, would you mind if Presto and Hank come to sleep with you?"

"Whatever."

"Starting tonight, then. This is great news because I was getting tired of having to hear Presto snoring all night. Besides, even though I'm a modern girl, I prefer the old girls side-boys side division sometimes."

Diana thought that Eric couldn't care less about basic modesty etiquette after having spent dozens of days living under the rule of abuse and obscenity, but then again, not talking about something didn't mean that it didn't exist, so she decided to press a little further.

"Take off your shirt."

Eric stared blankly at her, but she was ready for that. "Do it. I'm done with the scratches in your arms, but I want to take a look to the injuries you have on your torso."

"There's no need to do that, I'm fine."

"_Fine? _Who are you trying to fool, Eric?"

Eric got up so suddenly that he hit the table before him. The small bottle with the ointment fell to the floor and broke.

He looked with horror at the pieces of glass before clenching his fists. "Why do you pretend you care, anyway? Do you think some ointment is going to make a difference now? Why don't you quit all this circus and leave me alone?"

Diana got up too, very angry this time. "Leave you alone? What for? So you can keep your victim act forever? Think about it, Eric! Being sorry for yourself won't take you anywhere, just to your own perdition!"

"Perdition? You dare to talk to me about perdition? I think I know one or two things about that matter!" Eric cried, clenching his fists. He seemed so different, insane… Diana couldn't recognize him anymore.

But she wouldn't step back now. She grasped his arms firmly, making him flinch. Obviously he was uncomfortable with her touch, but she didn't let go. "I may not know a thing about perdition, Eric, but I know that it kills me to see you like this. What happened to you is horrible, but you can't allow it to destroy you. Do that and _he _will be victorious."

Eric's face seemed to petrify. Diana had been careful by not mentioning the forbidden name, but the effect had been just the same. Eric feared that name, he was absolutely horrified of it…

_Oh Eric… what did Venger do to you?_

After some seconds of very heavy silence, Eric averted his head and closed his eyes. Diana was sure he was doing it to avoid crying.

"You must be… very disgusted of me, but…" he muttered.

Diana tightened her grip on his arms. "Did you hear me saying that I was disgusted? Please don't ever put words on my lips, especially if they are impossible words. You are my friend, Eric. I care for you more than you can imagine. How could I ever be disgusted of you?"

Eric's mouth trembled. "You should be… I know I am… so infinitely disgusted of myself…"

"One day you will stop feeling this way," Diana said, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I promise you that. In the meantime, all I ask of you is to please let us help you. I know mere words sound insignificant compared to what you lived. We can't change the past but your future doesn't have to be miserable. Stay with us, Eric. We all care for you and will do whatever it takes to bring you back. Things will get better. I promise."

Eric remained motionless for an amount of time that was impossible to define. He eventually opened his eyes and started to remove his shirt. Diana stepped back to give him space and sat down. He sat before her and lifted his right arm, allowing her to remove the herbs covering his side.

"Mmmh… The wounds are closing now. Whatever that witch doctor did to you is working. Are you in pain?"

"Yes..."

Okay, some honesty there… Definitely Diana was making progresses.

"Alright, this is what we are going to do now. I'm going to get some more ointment from that witch doctor and I will clean your wounds every morning. In the meantime, I would appreciate it a lot if you don't test the sharpness of the bushes' spikes anymore. You would make my life a lot easier that way."

Diana got up and headed towards the door. "I better go and get Hank and the others now. They went out very early to look for you. There is some bread on the table if you are hungry… Oh, and Eric?"

He turned around to stare at her. "What?"

"If you ever talk to me again like the way you did last night you will meet my backhand. Are we clear?"

He nodded slowly.

"By the way," Diana said when she was already under the threshold of the door. "Welcome back, Eric. I missed your ugly face."

"I… I missed yours too." He said, blushing and showing the shadow of a smile. Slight and sad perhaps, but it had been something.

Diana smiled and turned around. Once again she was sure she had been right by not giving up hope with Eric. She never would.

* * *

_DAY SIX_

It was so horrible down there, no sounds around him, only the muffled laughs at the distance, only darkness. Eric couldn't decide what was worse, the heaviness on his head caused by being upside down, or the burden suffocating his chest. Simple seconds made the difference. Definitely the suffocation, he thought, when his lungs started to plea desperately for oxygen.

When he thought he was about to die he was lifted up again, the drops coming from his body creating a small rain on the tank filled with water beneath him.

The muffed laughs were now very sonorous as the four Orcs kept mocking him, ready to continue the aquatic torture on their prisoner. Eric coughed, expelling as much water as he could from his tortured self. He was done insulting the ugly creatures. He had cried and yelled and cursed all the way from the carpet room toward the dungeon they were now, struggled violently when they had tied his wrists and feet with very tight ropes, but he had decided that it was better to save his breath for the water tank that was waiting for him at the center of the dungeon.

He would have liked to know what he had done to be in that situation. As far as he could remember, Venger had been quite pleased by his performance the night before, when he had staged that degrading masturbation show for the arch-mage. But Venger was upset for some reason, or why else would he order his Orcs to torture him? Or perhaps Venger had ordered it only for amusement, although Eric would have expected the monster to be there and witness the punishment, as dominant and pervert as he was.

A deep feeling of disgust travelled through Eric's back as the coldest chill. Did that mean that he _wanted _Venger to be there and witness his punishment? That was so sick that Eric felt like throwing up, the feeling accentuated by the fact that he was hanging upside down.

A strong hit to his buttocks took him out of his disturbing thoughts. One of the Orcs had spanked him. By then he had been spanked so many times that one more shouldn't have mattered, but it did, and a lot. So far only Venger had touched him in such obscene and lustful ways. He hated it, but it didn't surprise him anymore. These filthy, fat and hideous creatures were an entirely different matter.

"Did you have enough, pretty boy?" the Orc laughed.

Eric preferred to shelter in silence. He wouldn't give those assholes the satisfaction of hearing him beg. He was sure that he still had some dignity left somewhere, and he intended to use it even if he was about to end his days drowned in that dungeon.

"Perhaps you require a different type of punishment, mmh?" another Orc growled, caressing Eric's bare bottom with his hand.

"Don't you dare to touch me, you freak!" the young man protested, shaking his body as much as he could.

The third Orc put a hand on his companion's arm and quickly shook his head. The movement was blunt and fast, but Eric could see it. It seemed like Venger had given very specific orders after all. That relaxed Eric somewhat; perhaps the Orcs would drown his guts, but wouldn't rape him as he was beginning to fear.

The upper part of his body was forced roughly into the water again while he was in the middle of his previous thought. _Shitshitshit, I wasn't prepared! I'm really going to drown here, damn it!_

He shook so violently that he hurt his arms in the process, but he didn't care. Suddenly, his feet were free from the pressure of the ropes tightening them and all his body fell inside the tank. When he reached the bottom, Eric turned his body around and propelled himself with his feet, finding the so desired air his lungs were claiming for.

He took a deep and agitated breath while the Orcs around him kept laughing. Then he understood that he hadn't liberated himself from the rope; they had done it, following orders as well.

"Bath time is over, pretty boy," the Orc that had spanked him said, or perhaps it was another one; they all looked the same ugly and smelled the same disgusting.

Two more Orcs grabbed Eric by his armpits and took him out of the tank, dragging him outside the dungeon.

"Where are you taking me?" he asked, scared, shivering with the possibility of being tortured again.

Nobody answered him. The Orcs dragged him corridor after corridor for what it seemed like an eternity. Eric got tired of struggling. Even without his wrists tied at his back, he would have had very few chances against four armed Orcs.

Finally, the beasts and their nude charge arrived to what it looked like a big esplanade in the lower part of the castle, in which a big wood wheel was waiting. Eric freaked out. The wheel looked so similar to the ones the Inquisition used to torture prisoners. He forgot about his recent promise of keeping his dignity when the possibility of that device breaking all his bones like toothpicks hit him.

"Wait! What are you going to do?" he cried in panic.

One of the Orcs approached to the wheel and started to rotate a lever beside it whilst the others untied Eric's wrists and forced him to walk to the device.

It was now or never.

Suddenly, Eric impacted his head as hard as he could against the Orc to his right. It worked, the creature released Eric's arm and took both of his hands to his face. Eric made good use of his free arm to punch the Orc to his left right on the nose, also managing to make him retreat. The third one, however, tackled Eric to the ground and pinned him with his heavier weight. Eric struggled but there was no use. The fourth Orc helped his companion to secure the prisoner and somehow kept the two beaten Orcs from taking immediate retaliation.

"Let go of me!" Eric kept crying whilst he was tied against the wheel, his face shoved against the rough surface. "Let fucking go of me!"

"You may consider ceasing your resistance, Cavalier, as it is completely useless."

Eric felt a chill travelling all down his spine. He recognized that voice, a very serious candidate for second place in his list of most terrifying voices.

Shadow Demon slid through the wheel like dark water, grazing Eric's skin and making him cringe as much as his restraints allowed him to.

"Why am I here?" Eric asked, trying to minimize his fear.

"Actions motivate reactions," the somber demon hissed. "Recall your mistakes, and maybe then you'll understand."

_Mistakes? Mistakes? _Eric had been nothing but raping material since his arrival to that castle, his will subdued and his dignity destroyed. What mistakes had he committed? Hadn't he pleased his accursed Master as required?

A sharp sound reverberated within the walls. Eric turned his head to the right as much as he could and saw one of the Orcs approaching with a long whip on his hands.

_Oh shit… not that…_

"W-wait— gggaaaaahhh!" he cried. The first lash fell on his back, but he felt it all over his body. More than a hit, it felt like a bite, like something hot and sharp wounding his skin.

Shadow Demon entered his limited range of vision again. "When the Master commands, you obey. It's as simple as that. Consider this a warning, and be thankful for the Master's mercy."

That's all he said before vanishing like the putrid fog he was. Eric clenched his tied fists. _Mercy? _How the heck could that be considered mercy? Was Venger punishing him just because he had failed to arrive to his accursed room the night before? But at the end Venger had had his obscene show anyway…

Eric cried again when his back was impacted for the second time. Fuck, it hurt so much indeed…

"Are you ready to beg, human boy?" the Orc whipping him snarled, grabbing him by the hair and pulling his head backwards.

"In your dreams, you filthy pig…" Eric responded, closing his eyes and tightened his already clenched fists. When the third lash fell he was sure it was a sword and not a whip hurting his flesh. The Orc was right. Time for begging had arrived, but he wouldn't give those beasts the satisfaction. He knew it would be useless, but it was the fact that Venger had ordered that torment that inflicted him strength in a moment in which he should have been dominated by panic.

Venger was not only playing with the sexuality of his prisoner, but also with his sanity. Eric realized that there was no way he could imagine just how much of a twisted pervert Venger really was.

He winced with the fourth lash, convinced that his body couldn't resist the punishment. The pain inflicted by the whip would have been hard enough, but being tied face down to that accursed wheel kept his body in a very uncomfortable position, not to mention totally defenseless.

Eric counted six lashes before the Orc stopped. The Cavalier tried to control his shivering body to take a deep breath. He wasn't naïve, though; he was sure those creatures were only starting.

And he was right. The wheel started to rotate and Eric's range of vision suddenly included the ceiling, made of blackish stone and wood, just as the rest of that damned castle…

And suddenly the ceiling turned red, orange, yellow… Seven… seven lashes already; certainly they felt like seven hundred. By the eight lash, Eric's eyes got wet. He hated himself for being so weak, but his back was burning.

The ninth hit brought a painful revelation. He would receive half dozen of lashes every time the wheel rotated, and considering the size of the device and the length of the rotations, it would take at least seven rotations to complete the circle, six if he was optimistic. But he wasn't.

When the wheel rotated for the second time, Eric's tears were struggling to get out, fiercely contained by his tormented dignity. One of the many lessons his father had given him were that men never cried. As much as he hated to remember those teachings, Eric was doing his best to honor his father's wishes, at least for once. If he succeeded in keeping himself together during his current torment, then perhaps he could find something to feel proud about, even with all the abuses and humiliation he had suffered during the worst six days of his life.

_E-eighteen… my back is killing me… I can't take it anymore… the wheel is rotating again… Nnn-nineteen … I'm gonna die here… I know I'm gonna die here…_

He could feel the taste of his own blood when the whip hit him for the twentieth third time. He had bit his lips so hard that he had hurt himself.

The wheel rotated and his dizziness increased. His body was almost totally upside down now. Then he felt it, his own warm blood running through his back and aiming for his shoulders. It wouldn't take long for him to start seeing the thick drops of red falling to the ground.

"Aw, poor boy… He's bleeding. Does this hurt?" one of the Orcs said, poking Eric's wounded back with his finger.

The young man groaned in pain. That filthy finger hadn't touched only his skin, but his already exposed flesh. Eric was sure that his back looked like a bloody mess by then, and the completion of the wheel's cycle was yet so far away…

"I'm talking to you!" the Orc growled.

Eric kept his stare fixated on the wall to his left, determined to ignore the presence of those beasts as much as possible. They could whip him until all his body looked like a pulp, but he would keep his eyes on that wall no matter what.

He couldn't repress the cry when lash number twenty five impacted his face. With his cheek still burning, Eric didn't succeed in keeping defeat away from him. His tears fell finally, sliding through his forehead and mixing with his own blood beneath.

"The poor boy is crying… You hit him too hard!" the Orc that had touched his back laughed.

His tears continued flowing as the punishment continued. Now not only his back, but his buttocks, shoulders and thighs were included in the vicious range of the whip. Eric continued tasting his blood, biting his lips as much as he could to avoid screaming, but yet his groans of pain kept coming out. He had failed another test. He wasn't a man, he was just a child… His father would have been so disappointed.

When the pressure on his chest increased he realized that the wheel was close to completing its cycle. He was almost in a horizontal position in the lower part of the wheel, his shoulders and back very close to the dirty floor.

He heard one of the Orcs laughing right before he felt something hard getting between his legs. "When the Master is done with you, we will have our fun with you," the Orc said, poking Eric's testicles with the handle of the whip.

The Cavalier shook his body as hard as he could, growling his frustration with all the strength of his lungs. That obscene contact infinitely disgusted him. He had had enough of abuse and degradation. Those things were not supposed to happen, not to him. Not even in his worst nightmares could he have imagined such a fate, but he was living it, day after day, hour after hour.

Suddenly he was a rabid beast. He struggled so hard that he managed to liberate one his arms. That only brought him a vicious lash on his side but he didn't care. He kept struggling and struggling, even when the Orcs tied him again with the promise of another complete wheel cycle.

A promise they were happy to honour.

When Eric finally lost consciousness, he couldn't feel pain anymore. Within the taste of his own blood and the numbness on his entire body, he felt something that later he would recognize as pride. He had resisted the torture without begging, unable to contain his tears perhaps, but there was some dignity left in him, slight and dying, but dignity after all.

_To be continued._


	7. Defenseless

_This is the last chapter I wrote during the writing frenzy I had after reading Shoys' story, so after today updates may be a little less frequent – mostly because I have several unfinished stories of other fandom in my other account - but don't worry, updates for this story will keep coming. Please feel free to breath down my neck and put some pressure on me. I work better under pressure ;o)_

_Thanks for your kind words, Shoys, you big instigator of my current D&DC fever! I'm glad you enjoyed the torture scene, I wasn't aware that there were so many fangirls who had a weakness to our poor Cavalier being whipped ;) Indeed, not all the chapters will have smut. I want to keep the plot moving and the smut is not always necessary – sigh. _

_D. B. Cooper, thanks for your help with last chapter's grammar mistakes, and double thanks for pointing me into the direction of Seagirl. I started to read her work and I'm as hooked as I was with the TV series :)_

_Bluetiger, I'm so glad you enjoyed the mirroring I did with the two parts of the chapter. It won't happen during the entire story, but I'll contrast two sides of the same coin in both the current events and the flashbacks as much as I can. Diana is one amazing character, firm and brave, but also gentle and caring. I always loved the bickering relationship she maintained with Eric, and I think she would be the one that would help him through his very difficult ordeal. And you are very right about everything you said about Eric's behavior during his torment. Now that he has surrendered to Venger, he's not willing to do it to anybody else, no matter what happens to him, and I think Venger found this behavior very, very interesting. Shadow Demon will have more appearances, by the way :)_

_Firestorm, lol… I also have a thing for shaved men, although not all of them look fine that way. But I imagine that Eric definitely does! Thanks for your utterly honest comments, it flatters me a lot that my story can cause that type of reactions on you ;)_

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**Chapter 7**

**Defenseless**

It wasn't until he heard Presto snoring that Eric realized how much he had missed that annoying but rhythmical noise that sounded more like a beast growling. However, the relief of listening to it again wasn't enough to keep his insomnia away. Even more, Eric doubted anything would achieve such a thing; he had the feeling that hundreds of restless nights were waiting for him in his immediate and not so immediate future.

After switching position in the bed for the umpteenth time, Eric got up. He glanced carefully at the immobile forms of Hank and Presto and carefully left the room, closing the door behind him.

The fresh breeze of the night brought very little relief, but at least he was alone. The village looked so peaceful, especially now that the celebrations for the beginning of the rain season had finished. Eric found not even one villager during his walk to the well located at the village's main square, something that highly pleased him.

He sat on the edge of the well and looked downwards. Within the darkness, he could see the peaceful reflection of the full moon on the water. A cold chill travelled through his spine when he thought about other things that could lurk within the shadows… He had done his best to not think about it, but he was sure _someone _would send for him very soon, if he hadn't done it already.

The sound of a branch breaking behind him made him jump, almost making him fall into the well.

"I'm sorry Eric, I didn't mean to scare you," Hank said, his bow glowing in the semi darkness.

"Then you shouldn't sneak up behind people like that," Eric replied, annoyed for the abrupt ending of a very wanted loneliness.

"I just wanted to see if you were okay. I heard you leaving the hut and I got worried."

"Well, don't be. I'm fine, as you can see. It's not like I'm going to jump into the well or hang myself or anything."

Hank seemed to be speechless, for once not having a clue what to do. As much as Eric would have formerly enjoyed that uncommon situation, he had to admit that he wasn't making things any easier for Hank, or for any of his friends for that matter. Diana had been right when she had told him about his victim act.

"I… I'm sorry," he said, resting his forehead on one hand. "You only want to help me, I know… I guess I haven't been the easiest person to deal with lately."

Hank sat on the other side of the well and threw a small rock into the bottom. "You have the right to be upset, Eric. It's me who should apologize… I have done my best to make you feel better but I have failed miserably."

The small rock sank into the dark waters, deforming the limpid reflection of the moon. Eric looked at it vanishing with a feeling of real sadness.

"You guys rescued me, and for that I'll be forever grateful," he said somberly. "As for the rest… it doesn't depend on you anymore."

"I know… but still, I want you to know that I'm here for you. If you want to talk about what happened…"

"And just what do you think it happened, Hank?"

"Eric, please. I… I just would like to know what I can do to help you."

"Shooting an arrow right into my heart would be a good start."

"Eric…"

Eric shook his head. "Ah, I'm sorry! I can't help it… I guess I'm too angry."

"Perhaps you would be interested in talking to Dungeon Master? He hasn't showed up lately but—"

"Save your breath. I already had a visit from His Shortness and it was a complete waste of time. The last thing I need right now are his stupid riddles and even less his pathetic attempts of comfort."

Hank seemed discouraged. Once again, the little malice Eric used to feel every time the Ranger ran out of resources didn't appear. The Cavalier was amazed how he could care about such stupid things before. Now they seemed so insignificant.

"Look…" he said, sighing. "Don't break your head trying to find a magical solution because there is no such thing, even in this place where every freaking thing has to do with magic. If you ask me, I'd be happy if we continue looking for a way to get home as soon as possible."

"Are you sure? The witch doctor said you needed to rest some days before—"

"Screw the witch doctor!" Eric snapped. "I know my limits better than anyone else and if I tell you I'm strong enough to travel it's because I am."

"Alright, if that's what you want… Is it okay with you if we leave tomorrow?"

"It would be better if we would leave right now."

"Not before you get some sleep, and any other choice is out of the question. Why don't you come back with me now? We still have some hours before dawn and I'm sure you could use the rest."

Eric sighed. He would have preferred to remain alone, but the hope of returning to his quest for a way home put him in the mood even to tolerate the awkward silences and the glances of pity coming from his friends' eyes. He was sure they wouldn't look at him in other way in a long time, perhaps for the rest of his life, but he couldn't blame them.

* * *

Evening was falling when the group reached the Serpent River. They had been walking all day, making very few pauses and talking only the necessary. As always, Hank led the group, followed closely by Diana. The rest walked behind, keeping a close distance between each other, with the exception of Eric, who walked at the end of the group and visibly separated from the others. Presto and Bobby had made attempts to join him, but Eric had been very obvious concerning his desire of keeping a distance from his friends.

So they let him be. Even Bobby, who didn't know what was wrong with Eric, had eventually renounced to trying to cheer the Cavalier up and had looked for friendlier company.

"This is the Serpent River," Diana said. "The road to the Valley of Eos must be to the North, at the end of the forest."

"We still have a couple of hours before night falls," Hank said. "Let's continue."

Diana took a discreet look backwards before addressing Hank again. "What about Eric?" she asked. "He looks tired. We should camp here."

Hank sighed. "I completely agree with you, but he was blind to reason when I suggested that same thing some minutes ago."

"He may be blind to reason but he's also injured. We should have stayed some more days in the village."

"It was Eric who wanted to leave… And although I share your concerns about him, I think the possibility of finding a dimensional portal in the Valley of Eos could be what he needs to begin to return to his old self."

Diana was about to reply when she heard the voice of Sheila from behind.

"Guys, come quickly!"

* * *

Every step was a torture of different proportions. Sometimes it was an aching pain that traveled through all his body like an electric shock, other times it was more like a lash, but most of the times it was like a stab in the lower part of his body every time his feet touched the ground.

Eric was walking as fast as he could, but still he could barely keep up with his friends, who were walking slower in consideration for him, by the way. That was utterly humiliating, almost as much as the attempts of Bobby and Presto to engage him in trivial conversation. Fortunately they soon understood that he was not in the mood to talk, or anything else for that matter.

His limping had an advantage, though. It gave him the perfect excuse to keep a distance from his friends. Their company was another torture. Every time they looked at him, every time they talked to him, every time they had made a kind gesture to him, Eric could see the pity in their eyes, the condescending tone in which they addressed him. He knew they all saw him different now, like a desecrated victim instead of the friend that had shared so many adventures and insanities with them during the years. He hated to admit it, but he missed the way in which they used to team up against him every time he made a mistake or a simple sarcastic remark. It was unfair most of the times, but he would have certainly preferred to be the former laughing stock than the center of everybody's consideration. Their current gentle attitudes were driven by pity, not by a genuine desire to help him, with the probable exception of Diana. But most importantly, Eric was sure they all still saw him in that dungeon, violated and deprived from all his dignity, and that single thought was killing him.

He stopped walking and leaned on a nearby tree when one step ached more than the others. He bended over himself and took a deep breath. The injuries on his torso were burning him but he wasn't ready to give up for the day. Not yet. He had had much worse days than that one, much worse…

"Eric? Are you alright?"

The voice sounded painful in his ears. He had been avoiding Sheila as if she had the Black Death, but he was aware that sooner or later he would have to face her and her disturbing kindness. At that moment, he would have given anything to be invisible. She was so fortunate to have that cloak…

"Yes," he lied without staring at her. "Just a little tired, that's all."

"I'll tell Hank that you need to take a break. Han—!"

Her shout was interrupted when Eric grasped her wrist, only to immediate release it. "No, don't… I can go on. Besides, we better leave the forest as soon as possible."

Eric saw her sadness in the fleeting moment in which their eyes locked. He averted his glance immediately. To say that he was feeling embarrassed would have been a tremendous understatement. Ever since the first moment he had seen Sheila again, he couldn't help to see her staring at him, witnessing the most terrible moments of his life. He knew it had been fake, an illusion created to push him to the limits of his sanity, but still, it had been so powerful at the time… it was being so powerful now.

Salvation came from a dangerous source, but still Eric was grateful with the interruption of the awkward moment. He usually would have startled at the sight of spiders the size of a dog, but not at that moment. He actually thanked the gods of the Realm for sending him that blessing, even if they killed him in the process.

Sheila covered her head with her cloak at the same time that Eric put an imaginary shield between himself and the spider that jumped at him. He wasn't afraid, it had been an instinctive reaction. He hadn't used his shield in many days and was already used to its absence, but still he had looked for it at the first sign of danger. Some habits were hard to erase.

But the spider never reached him. A floating rock collapsed against its head and knocked it out as the voice of Sheila could be heard: "Guys, come quickly!"

Eric stepped back as he saw his friends running towards him with their weapons ready. His back met the surface of a tree behind him, and there he stayed. The spiders were circling him, making escape an impossible possibility. He was defenseless, utterly defenseless. No shield, no courage, but no fear either. Once again Eric faced the possibility of death as something that could free him.

But Sheila certainly had a very different point of view because she kept rejecting the spiders with stones and sticks, confusing the arachnids with her invisibility. But there were too many for her. Soon the Thief groaned in pain and dots of blood started to fall to the ground. Eric looked at them horrified. That had been his cue and he had missed it; that had been the moment in which he would have stepped forward to protect Sheila or any other of his friends from an imminent attack. He was the Cavalier, that was his duty, to protect his friends… But he had remained motionless, had not lifted a finger to help Sheila. Even without his shield, he could have stood between her and the spider, one injury more wouldn't have meant much because he was very used to pain by then, but not Sheila…

He had been mocked about it in the past a lot, and he had to admit that he had done enough things to create such fame, but for the first time in his life Eric really felt like a coward.

An energy arrow made the spider retreat, and soon their companions did the same, scared by the combined attack of the rest of the gang. Sheila became visible again and kneeled, grasping her bleeding arm.

"Sheila!" Bobby cried, running to his sister and kneeling beside her. Then he turned to face Eric. "Why didn't _you_ help her?"

Eric was as pale as paper. Cowardice was not the only thing scorching him from inside, but also the heavy burden of having turned into a completely useless waste of a human being.

"I… I couldn't…" he stammered. "I didn't have my shield…"

"Well, you could have hit those bugs with stones, just the same as Sheila did!" the Barbarian continued, frowning at the conflicted Cavalier. "If Sheila got poisoned, I swear I—"

"It's okay, Bobby," Sheila said, putting her hand on her brother's arm. "The spider only scratched me with one paw. I was never in contact with its fangs."

"Still, Eric could have done more than just staring like an idiot!"

"Enough Bobby," Hank said firmly, grabbing gently Sheila's arm to examine it. "Eric is right. He doesn't have his shield and he's still weakened because of his injuries. Asking him to fight is not only too much but also unfair."

Eric bowed his head. So that's what he was now: a burden, a useless burden that was only slowing his friends down. The following thought was very painful but he had to face it: his friends would be better without him. How much time had they invested figuring out how to rescue him? How many portals had they missed in the meantime?

"He might be weakened now, but he will recover and he will be able to fulfill his duties, just as before," Diana said, stepping forward and offering her hand to Eric. "Come Eric, help me and Presto get some wood. It's going to be a cold night."

Eric took her hand and followed her in silence, too confused to feel gratitude. Words came into his mind as shocking as they had been the day they had been pronounced the first time.

_Every living being in any universe has a dog and has an owner, Cavalier. Now you know your role._

* * *

_DAY SEVEN_

Venger ran his finger along the formerly smooth skin of the unconscious Cavalier. His sharp nail traveled freely through the countless injuries and the torn flesh that the boy's back now was.

The punishment had been too hard, as the sight of the bleeding naked body of the Cavalier indicated. Venger lowered his hand and moisted it with more dots of the boy's blood, allowing them to slip freely through his fingers.

Yes, perhaps it had been too much, but Venger felt immensely satisfied. The boy had resisted a beating that could have killed any other human being. Venger had seen many creatures die on the same wheel in which his slave had been tortured, even with half the punishment that the Cavalier had taken.

But not this boy. He had remained strong and steady, fighting his fears with that disgusting pure heart of his that had turned him into one of the Dungeon Master's favorite pupils. Venger wondered if the boy knew that the old man considered him the most valuable of those annoying Young Ones…

But Venger knew better. He had seen that fire in some of the occasions in which his mortal attacks had been contained by the shield of the boy. But the shield itself couldn't have done anything, even with all its magic; it was the will of the owner of the shield what made the difference and powered the weapon.

"You are a real diamond, my boy," Venger hissed, caressing again the injured body lying on the table. "Corrupting you will be such a great achievement, not to mention a pleasure."

Venger stopped his caresses and put his hands above the damaged body beneath him, conjuring a spell he hadn't used in hundreds of years. Using white magic seemed so bizarre now, foreign at the best, but the Cavalier was in a very bad shape and would probably die if he kept bleeding like he was. Venger had no complaints about the boy's spirit, but his body was human and mortal.

The warm energy tingled through Venger's fingers as a very uncomfortable reminder of who he had been, but still he managed to produce the curative energy and bathed the naked body of his slave. Immediately, the bleeding stopped and the wounds started to close, although it satisfied Venger that the boy would have some scars for the rest of his life, eternal reminders of the arch mage's dominion over a pure soul that now belonged to him.

The immobile body began to move, as a soft groan announced the return of the Cavalier to consciousness and life. Venger smirked, strangely satisfied when the weakened boy opened his eyes.

His pure and tired glance found the arch mage sitting beside him. Venger wasn't sure if he had recognized him; his brown eyes remained as fatigued as before, no trace of fear or anxiety.

"Why?" the Cavalier weakly asked.

The boy was certainly wondering about the reason of his miraculous recovery. Venger was about to spoke when the Cavalier did it again.

"Why did you punish me?"

His voice continued sounding so fatigued, but yet very aware of everything that had happened.

Venger ran a finger through his prisoner's cheek, in the same place in which a lash had damaged his beauty. The injury had disappeared now, of course.

"If you haven't understood it yet, Cavalier, pain will become as regular to you as breathing."

The boy remained silent, but he didn't look impressed. "So… this is how it's going to be? Wound me first and heal me later…?"

"That depends on you," Venger said, caressing his face again and playing with a lock of his black hair.

"Right…" the boy said absent-mindedly. "I had forgotten about being your sex slave thing…"

Venger laughed. "You make it sound as such a terrible thing, my boy," he said, starting to caress again the bare skin of his victim. This time the boy didn't flinch, not even when Venger reached his buttocks. Perhaps he was still too weak, or maybe he had already begun to accept his fate.

The caresses continued. The Cavalier remained with his eyes half opened, his opaque stare fixated at some inexistent place.

"Are you going to rape me now?" he said after some minutes of silence. "Just get over with it and leave me alone. I could really use some rest now…"

Venger's hand got between the boy's legs, but he didn't get much further. "Not tonight. What's the point of possessing you when you are not even able to moan, even less to scream? Rest, my Cavalier, recover your strength. Tomorrow will be a different night."

The boy showed some fear for the first time since his awakening, although it was more like discouragement. Venger could feel his depression, and also the certainty that he had been abandoned. Nobody would rescue him this time, nobody could heal his pain other than the one that inflicted it.

Or maybe it was simpler. Perhaps the Cavalier had already accepted that he was utterly defenseless, and that his only use would be the one that Venger dictated.

_To be continued._


	8. Black clouds for a pure heart

_New update! As I said, new chapters won't be as frequent as before, but I'll try to update as fast as possible._

_Thanks very much for your opinion, Shoys :o) Eric's attitude at the end of the previous chapter came precisely from his sarcasm. I realized that after being tortured so brutally, and even though he had been healed by Venger, he was so exhausted, both physically and mentally, that he just didn't care anymore, although I will explain more of that attitude in this chapter. It didn't happen just because._

_D. B. Cooper, of course the original cartoon never showed Eric and Venger that way. It was a cartoon for kids after all. But this is fanfiction and, as the site motto says, the perfect place to unleash our imagination. I'm aware that some may like this story and some may not. We are all different and that's good, otherwise life would be so boring. Thanks for your help with my grammar typos :o)_

_Bluetiger, as always you amaze me with your reviews. It's like if you know exactly what I wanted to say, and that's wonderful considering I'm not a native English speaker and I'm always so afraid that my poor handle of the language won't be able to express what I want to express, but fortunately it seems that such is not the case :o) I also loved the idea of Venger using white magic to heal Eric, something the Force of Evil hadn't done in centuries – both using white magic and healing someone else. So you are very right, who 'corrupted' who there? Lol._

_Hee hee, Firestorm84… thanks for your very honest reviews ;o) Considering that this story has a considerable amount of smut, I really appreciate that my writing is being able to cause you enjoyable reactions. _

_Thank you all for reviewing and I hope you will enjoy this chapter._

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 8**

**Black clouds for a pure heart**

_Presto buttoned and zipped his jeans. He had done that same action thousands of times, but after three years of only using his magician's robe, the moment became marvelous. The jeans felt so good, his legs covered again after so much time of having worn something that always felt like a dress. A strong but affectionate slap on his back made him step forward. He turned around to meet the grinning face of his best friend._

"_Way to go, Presto!" Eric cheered. "That useless hat of yours finally came up with something useful!"_

_Presto gaped. Standing proudly on a rock, his figure handsomely bathed by the moonlight, Eric was the vivid image of a Knight. His black armour and cape, his grey chainmail, his sword…_

_Sword? Yes, Eric was carrying a sword, there was no trace of his former shield anywhere. _

_Glorious… that would be a word that would fit what was before Presto's eyes. His glasses slipped slightly down his nose, but he adjusted them back and approached his friend, smiling and still admiring the powerful figure._

"_Wow Eric… you look great…"_

_Then he noticed. The sword wasn't shinning like the rest of Eric's armour, at least not all of it. The edge seemed to be soiled in a dark substance. The shadows didn't allow Presto to have a better look, but the smell arrived so brutally to his nose that he had to step back, infinitely disgusted._

_He was not familiar with that smell, but he recognized it, as instinctively as he would have known that fire burned._

_Eric noticed his friend's reaction, grabbed the sword and raised it above his head. The moonlight left no place for doubts; it was blood, fresh and viscous, its penetrating smell piercing the air with a scent of death._

_And Eric's face was not his face anymore. The features were the same, but it wasn't Eric, at least not the Eric that had been Presto's best friend for practically all his life._

"_I killed him," Eric said, with a smirk so twisted that sent a rivulet of chills through Presto's body._

"_I killed him," Eric spoke again._

_Suddenly, Eric was a monster._

* * *

Presto woke up with a start, his breathing agitated as he tried to acknowledge his surroundings. The first signal of reality came through his ears; the same crickets symphony, the bonfire cackling, the distant growls of fantastic animals… Then his eyes entered the game, showing him a familiar panorama as well. Bushes, trees, the four moons of the Realm, the prostrated forms of his friends sleeping peacefully…

Presto took a deep breath and cleaned the drops of sweat on his forehead with the sleeve of his robe. If he hadn't been so shocked about the dream he just had, he would have been embarrassed for falling sleep once again during his guard shift.

He turned to his left and found the one lying figure that was distant from the others. It was perhaps because everything was quiet and silent, but the few meters that separated Eric from the rest of the group suddenly seemed like an abysm. The Cavalier was too far away from the bonfire to receive some warmth, and Presto doubted that the thin blanket he was using to cover himself was enough to protect him from the cold. Certainly that was the case, because Presto noticed that the young man was shivering.

Presto sighed and stood up from the trunk he had been sitting on. He approached Eric with fear, even though the Cavalier was sleeping and Presto wouldn't have to face his eyes that now always seemed so full of pain and shame. It had been so difficult to deal with Eric the last few days. Presto didn't know how to talk to him, how to treat him… he felt so awkward around the guy who had been his closest companion for so many years and suddenly had turned into a stranger.

The image of Eric standing on that rock with that horrible dark blood dripping from his sword returned.

Presto shook his head, trying to disengage from the bizarre dream.

When the Magician arrived to his friend's side, he noticed that his shiver was definitely not caused by the coldness of the night. Eric was shuddering indeed, but also sweating. But it was the terrified grimace on his face that disturbed Presto the most.

Eric was having a nightmare, that was for sure. He was frowning and his mouth was twisted with so much anguish that Presto had no doubt what the nightmare was about.

As he had felt many times during his stay in the Realm – and during all his life, actually – Presto didn't know what to do. Immediately, choices arrived to his brain in an attempt to solve the situation as if it were a multiple choice quiz.

a) Waking Eric up.

b) Calling Diana.

c) Not doing anything at all.

It was more like choosing the lesser evil. If he awoke Eric, certainly that would disturb and embarrass the Cavalier even more, but if he allowed him to continue having that nightmare… What was the point in letting him suffer, if Presto could stop it?

He made up his mind and sank to one knee, putting his hand on Eric's shoulder and starting to move him softly. Diana would have been a much better choice for the task, but Presto thought that he couldn't rely on her for everything. Besides, he was Eric's best friend, or at least he had been. At some point, the Magician would have to actually do something to help his old buddy, or at least be beside him.

"Eric…" he said as calmly as he could, continuing to move his friend. "Wake up, Eric…"

The following seconds were endless, but not as painful as when Eric finally opened his eyes. Relief and anguish had never been so confusing, intertwined among each other.

"P-Presto…" Eric said weakly. "Are… are we leaving already?"

"No… it's still night time. The others are sleeping."

Eric leaned on his elbows and propelled his body slightly from the ground, taking a look around him.

"Uh… you were having a nightmare," Presto explained. "I thought it would be better to wake you up… Sorry if I upset you."

Eric sat on the grass and rubbed his face with his hands. "No, it's okay. The suns will come out soon, right?"

Presto nodded and sat beside Eric, not as close as to touch him, but trying to make his friend feel the warmth of his company. "Yeah, but not for a couple of hours more. Why don't you try to sleep a little more? You haven't rested much lately."

Eric folded his legs and embraced them with his arms. "No… I don't feel like sleeping anymore. Why don't you do it yourself? I can take care of the rest of your guard shift."

Presto hesitated. "Uh… I don't think that's a good idea."

Eric raised an eyebrow and looked at him with a hurt expression. "What? Don't you think I can do it? I think I'm still capable enough to shout if I see any danger."

"It's not that, Eric… but you really need to sleep, and eat better for that matter. Gaining some weight wouldn't harm you, you know?"

"Yes, mother…" Eric said, returning his gaze toward the front. It was somewhat relieving to hear some of his old irony, but Presto knew that it hadn't been a response from Eric's usual mood, but for his desire to be left alone.

"Look, Eric… I…"

Eric shot him a questioning look. Damn, why did it have to be so hard? Presto couldn't remember a moment in which he had felt so awkward and useless in his entire life. The silence became so thick that all that Presto wanted was for the ground to open up and swallow him.

Eventually, Eric grimaced and returned his attention to the grass. "Save it. I know what you want to say, so don't torture yourself looking for the right speech. There is no such thing, and it would be useless anyway. I know you want to help me, and I appreciate it, even if it doesn't look that way."

That should have been all, his cue to stand up and leave Eric to sulk alone. But Presto wouldn't do that, not again. He clenched his fists and decided that for once he had to be strong and confront the problems, not just run away from them. Many times he had thought that, if he had been the one to go through Eric's martyrdom, he would have liked to have his best friend by his side.

"Do you remember when I was eight years old and those kids from sixth grade put my head inside a dirty toilet?"

Eric frowned slightly. "How could I forget it? Your hair smelled like a public bathroom for three days."

"Er, yeah but… I mean, do you remember what you told me when we camped in your backyard the following weekend?"

"Mm… that I would ask my father to fire theirs?"

Presto smiled slightly. "No, besides that… You said it was going to be okay, that I would get over it with the time… that I was not such a nerd as those guys said."

"I don't remember that."

Presto's face saddened. "Well, you said it… And you also told me that it was okay… when I cried."

"Presto, you were eight years old! Kids cry all the time at that age."

"You didn't."

"I was older than you."

"I saw your father treating you like dirt many times ever since I can remember, and yet you never cried," Presto said, uncomfortable for addressing matters that obviously hurt Eric, but he had to go on. The painful spot certainly was still there because Eric didn't reply.

"And still… that day in your backyard you told me that it was okay to cry sometimes, that I didn't have to feel embarrassed, and that you wouldn't tell anyone about it."

Eric's frown softened. "Yes… I did tell you that."

"And you honored your word… even though I was sure you would make fun of me with your rich friends."

"Nah… with them? They were just a bunch of snobbish jerks. I had to stand them because their parents had business with my father, you always knew that."

The thought that many people still considered Eric a snobbish jerk made Presto smile. "What I want to say is that you didn't let me down that day, Eric. You stood by me, and helped me when I broke the crying record, as you named it."

Eric smiled slightly. "Yeah… how much long was it? Two hours in a row?"

"One hundred and thirty three minutes, to be precise."

Eric's face darkened again. He grasped a small rock beside him and threw it forward. "Is that what you are expecting for me to do now, Presto? To cry?"

The feeling of awkwardness returned, as fast as the rock had been thrown. "No, I… I just think you have a lot of pain inside, and you need a way to express it or it's going to destroy you."

Eric smirked, the gesture so slight but also so full of resentment. "Believe me, Presto, if I could wash what I feel with simple tears, I would already be dry."

"It's not about the tears… I just want to help you, Eric. I'm here for you, I'll always be. We… we are still friends, aren't we?"

"Yes, of course we are."

"See? Then let me help you, let me—"

"Presto! I don't want to sound insensitive but I really doubt that having your head sank in a toilet by a bunch of bullies can compare to what happened to me. Just… just give it a rest, would you?"

Presto opened his mouth to reply but not a single word arrived to his aid. It was happening just as he had feared; he had done nothing but make things worse. It would have been much better to leave Eric with his nightmare. Somehow Presto knew that his friend would have those nightmares for a long time, anyway.

The young Magician bowed his head, wishing so much to be a real wizard and be able to disappear without the help of his stupid hat.

"That teleportation spell..." he heard Eric saying suddenly. "The one you used to teleport everybody into the castle…"

When he noticed that Eric wouldn't continue speaking, Presto found his voice. "Dungeon Master guided me to it. It's a very difficult spell, I had to study it for forty days before giving it a try… but at the end it worked."

A cloud decided to interfere with the Moons at that precise moment and sheltered Eric's face with a shadow.

"Do you think you could do it again?"

Presto could feel his heart stopping beating. "I-I don't know… perhaps… under the proper conditions, I guess..."

Despite of the darkness, Presto could see Eric rising his head. "Do you think you could do it for me, just one more time?"

"W… what…? But why would you want me to—"

"I need to go back to that castle," Eric continued, as if he were talking to himself. "Not now, but soon… when I get ready."

"E-Eric… you're scaring me."

When Eric turned to Presto the cloud had moved away. The Magician shuddered, recognizing the darkness in the Cavalier's eyes that he had seen in his dream.

"You said I honored my word that day in my backyard, now I ask you to do the same thing. Don't tell anyone about this, but please make that spell for me when the day comes. That's everything I'll ever ask from you. Promise it, Presto."

For a moment, Presto was that eight year old boy again, shuddering in humiliation as his best friend palmed his shoulder. And he felt that way, like a kid, his problems and fears so insignificant compared to what was happening currently in front of his face.

"Eric…"

"Promise it!"

Presto couldn't reason anymore. He had only one thing to say and he knew what it was. He owed it to Eric. "I… I promise."

Eric nodded softly and lay down again, turning his back to Presto. "I think you were right. I should sleep a little bit more now that I still can."

Presto remained some more minutes there before standing up and returning to his guarding spot. He was suddenly feeling so empty.

* * *

_DAY NINE_

"It pleases me to see you awake. You slept for almost two days."

The Cavalier returned Venger's stare, but he didn't attempt to move, not even to cover his nakedness. He remained sitting in the corner of the room, his legs folded against his chest and his chin resting on his arms.

"Two days?" the boy spat disdainfully. "Oh, I wouldn't know. All I know is that I woke up some hours ago and my back hurt like hell, not to mention that I find very offensive that you call _sleep _my most recent activity. I was fucking unconscious thanks to the special treatment you ordered your pigs to give me!"

"Pain is merely a reminder, not a permanent punishment. How frequent it will become depends entirely on you."

The glance of hate that the boy returned as response was fascinating. Very few times in his life had Venger felt that powerful wave of heat travelling through his body, but it was happening so many times lately, ever since the Dungeon Master's Cavalier had been thrown inside one of his dungeons. Venger was sure that none of the Dungeon Master's other pupils could have caused him such reaction, not even the ebony goddess that the Acrobat was.

"Gratitude, I can see, is not one of the qualities your pure heart can achieve," Venger sneered. "You should be aware that if it weren't for me, you would have bled to death."

The boy smirked. "Right. Thank you very much, oh my Master."

"Careful, Cavalier, careful… Provoking my anger will make everything you have suffered before be a desired paradise."

The boy, however, didn't erase his smirk. "So you say… What now, _Master? _You command, I obey, remember?"

Venger pointed a clawed finger toward the bed, which was perfectly made. It seemed that the boy hadn't spent a single moment there since he had regained consciousness.

"Of course," the Cavalier continued, slapping his forehead. "How stupid of me to ask!"

He stood up and walked towards the bed with a strange dignity, no trace of fear on his movements, but still Venger could smell his disgust. Besides his arousal, Venger was also strangely fascinated by the way that human was submitting to him. Certainly he wanted to stay alive, otherwise he wouldn't be complying with the Arch Mage's desires, but at the same time it seemed that he was beyond fear, addressing his Master with so much cynicism.

The boy reached the bed and lay on it, lying on his stomach. He extended his arms and slightly spread his legs.

"Well?" he said. "Go on and have your way. It's not like I have better things to do than waiting for you to fuck me."

Venger frowned. As much as a part of him was enjoying to see the boy surrendering to him, his disrespect was also annoying. Perhaps he still needed to learn about who the Master was, and why.

Venger reached his prey in a whisper, lust being his feet. He leaned on the boy's back and started to pass his fingers through the reddish marks on the Cavalier's bare skin. Yes… he would have some permanent scars, he would always carry Venger's mark.

"That hurts," the boy said, gripping the bedspread with his clenched hands. "Am I allowed to tell you when it hurts this time, or am I not?"

"You can cry as loud as you want," Venger responded, suddenly spreading the boy's legs as much as he could, unable to contain his lust anymore.

The Cavalier flinched but didn't resist. He remained with his intimacy exposed as Venger lifted up his robe and started the journey through his victim's incipient manhood.

Venger wasn't careful when he penetrated his victim. The boy needed a lesson and the Arch Mage would make sure to deliver it. A groan of pain rewarded him immediately, as he felt every muscle of the Cavalier's body tensing in protest. But still, the boy didn't cry, didn't beg him to stop.

"Is that how you like it?" Venger hissed, thrusting back and forth the defenseless nude body beneath him. "You are so tight, still so tight… At this point, I would have believed that at least your body would be used to me. But I like it this way better. I like it when it hurts you."

The next groan of pain was muffled by the bedspread, bitten by the boy in an attempt to silence himself. _Let's see if you continue with your arrogant act as I tear you in two, my boy…_

Venger could feel the unmistakable touch of the blood of an innocent getting in contact with his own intimacy. He moaned in pleasure, a shark driven to insanity by the tangible proof of the suffering of that pure soul. How pure it would remain, however, depended entirely on him.

He felt powerful, totally in control, surrounded by the greatest pleasure he had ever felt. Not even in his former life, in which he had loved and been loved, had the Ach Mage felt this way. Dominion was so much better than tenderness, violence so much more satisfying that softness… Somewhere in the middle, love had fallen as the first victim.

A loud groan of pain from his prisoner made Venger grab the boy by the hair and pull his head toward him. He could see the sweat on the Cavalier's forehead as small pearls signaling the Arch Mage's victory. Sweat, perhaps tears, blood also, between the boy's legs… Just the way it had to be.

"I hate you…" the boy said suddenly, his words very clear among his torment. "I really hate you…"

Venger burst into laughter and forced the Cavalier's head into the bed again, increasing the strength of his onslaughts as much as he could. There was no magic this time, just pure and brutal force. He wanted the boy to remember that moment as merely carnal.

Seconds turned into minutes. Venger felt unable to contain his orgasm anymore, but he forced him to do so in order to keep the boy suffering. He had to prolong that moment as much as possible, he had to show him…

His eyes closed, all the strength of his body focused on his hips, one of his hands clenched on the boy's head, the other one clawed like a spider on his buttocks… Suddenly something changed, he didn't know exactly what but something had happened. Venger didn't notice when the supposedly weak and submitted body beneath his twisted. He opened his eyes by instinct, but not before the pain. The pain was first, as it always was.

His roar came from surprise, not from pain. When he opened his eyes he knew where to find the source. Piercing the left side of his chest, a knife was half embedded into him, the boy's hand still grabbing it, and his own clawed hand closed around the boy's wrist, avoiding him to do more damage.

He should have been angered, he should have been furious, he should have torn that disgusting Cavalier in pieces at that right moment…

But he didn't.

All he could see was the erection protruding from the boy's legs.

The boy had seen it too, had certainly felt it before. He had known he had it when he made his desperate and childish move. And the boy was so embarrassed, so infinitely embarrassed by his own pleasure, not enough to overwhelm his rage.

Doing his best to remain inside the Cavalier, Venger helped him to continue his original movement and turned him around, making him lie completely on his back. The knife did more damage, but Venger didn't care. He remained with his hand around the boy's wrist, the knife still stabbing him, but, at the same time, Venger was stabbing back with his own manhood.

The Cavalier had tried to kill him… _The accursed Cavalier had tried to kill him._

Lust lashed Venger with so much force that the Arch Mage moaned in return, thrusting his intimacy inside the boy with all the brutality he could achieve. The Cavalier groaned and closed his eyes for a moment, but he opened them immediately, not detaching them from the Arch Mage's stare.

Yes, the Cavalier had tried to kill him… so much for his pure heart, so much for his immaculate soul.

Moving inside his frustrated killer, Venger grasped the boy's penis with his free hand. Despite seeing the erection, Venger was surprised how hard it was.

Many things could have been said in that bizarre moment, many claims of victory, many laments of defeat… But neither master nor slave said a word. They continued in that same position, master pounding slave, master squeezing slave's penis as an erected trophy.

When Venger reached his orgasm, he wasn't surprised when he noticed that the boy had also reached his own. It was only satisfaction that permeated the Arch Mage's mind as he moaned the last remains of his pleasure and rested his head on the boy's chest, who was panting as frenetically as he was.

The knife remained half embedded in his chest, as much a part of the pleasure as it was part of the pain.

_To be continued._


	9. Anger in three acts

_Sorry for taking a while to update this fic, but I have been very busy lately. Still, I was extremely happy to open this account and found that this story has received a very generous amount of clicks. Thank you for that, people! Please don't be strangers and leave me a review if you are enjoying this._

_Before anything, I want to thank my regular reviewers, who are a big inspiration to keep this story going._

_Shoys, always a pleasure to read you :o) The knife symbolism will have a consequence._

_D. B. Cooper, thanks for your help with my grammar in the previous chapters, I'm glad you liked Eric putting some resistance and challenging his moral beliefs. I guess 'thou shall not kill' doesn't count when being sexually abused by the Force of Evil himself._

_Bluetiger, thanks so much for your insightful review and your very kind words! I feel overwhelmed, really. You made a very accurate read of Presto's dream and the symbolism that implied. Indeed, Eric was marked not only by the abuse he received, but the darkness he discovered inside himself and that maybe or maybe not will consume him. It will depend on his inner strength I guess… As for the last half of the chapter, I thought that Eric would come to a point in which he couldn't tolerate being raping material anymore. In the cartoon, he had certainly many moments of cowardice, but also of courage. I'm not among the ones who could call him a coward so easily, and I believe him capable of going to extremes to defend his life or his dignity, such as stabbing Venger :oP _

_Thanks again for your reviews and I hope you will enjoy this chapter. Sorry for taking so long to update!_

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**Chapter 9**

**Anger in three acts**

_Six years ago._

"Gimme your lunch money."

"Heh, maybe he should write you a check better? Little fucker's lunch money must be what my dad makes in one year."

Guffaws. He hated them. He had always hated them, especially when they targeted him.

"Are you deaf, little fag? Give us your lunch money!"

"No."

The silence that followed was overwhelming, time passing by in slow speed. What amazed Eric the most weren't the astounded faces of the three adolescents before him; it was his own negative. Why the heck his mouth had opened and said that short, blunt word would always remain a mystery to him. It would have been so easy to just give up, bow his head and empty his pockets.

But there was much more than one lousy hundred and fifty dollars at stake. He didn't know exactly why, but he wasn't going to give a dime to those kids that were at least three years older than him, not to mention considerably bulkier.

He wasn't surprised when the chubbiest of them grabbed the collar of his shirt and shook him as if he were a puppet without strings.

"What did you say, worm? I think I didn't hear you."

The fat teenager was so close to him that Eric could smell his bad breath, but the twelve-year-old knew exactly what to say. The word was between his lips, had come to stay, it couldn't be otherwise.

"I said no."

For a moment the chubby boy seemed taken back, but he recovered his aggressive attitude very fast, helped by his massive fists that didn't take long to find his victim's body.

Eric suddenly found himself unable to breath, somehow surprised that his stomach hadn't been pierced by the fist that had punched it so brutally. He fell on his knees, his expensive pants meeting the dusty and forbidden ground. Despite the pain, he could predict that his mother would make such a fuss because of that. Even though Eric was _never _messy, just one time would be enough for his mom to give him one of those lectures in which he always ended being a sinner.

A rough hand grasped his neck and forced him downwards. Now also his Lacoste vest met the pavement below. Yes, his mother wouldn't like that… and she certainly would tell his father. Eric had always wondered why bad luck seemed so devoted to him. He had definitely been born under a bad sign.

He didn't care when his wallet was extracted from the back pocket of his pants. But when the watch that his grandfather had given him for his birthday was snatched from his wrist, he felt as if he was being stripped. Once again, the guffaws took over his fragile dignity. The insults were meaningless, even the kick that made his entire torso ache; whatever was dormant inside of him was suddenly awakened when the fat boy stepped on him as if he were a carpet. Immediately after, his empty wallet fell unceremoniously on his head.

He found his breath again, a slight purr of something unidentified burning his throat. He didn't notice when he got to his feet again, he didn't notice his fists clenched at his sides, he didn't even notice when he spoke again.

"Give it back."

The three boys were already on their way, but they stopped and turned around, already distributing among themselves the recently printed twenty and ten dollar bills.

"Did you say something, fag?"

"Give me the watch back! It's mine!"

"I think our little friend Erica needs a lesson," one of the other boys said.

He was immediately surrounded, promises of pain promptly fulfilled as two hands pushed him in the back, right into the arms of the fat boy, who received him with a strong hit to his face.

He should have returned to the floor, or use his fast legs and run all the way to his bed. That would have been the easy way, and he had never been one who despised easy ways. But for once he knew that doing that wasn't an option; he stayed standing whilst a thin line of blood started to come out of his nose. It hurt; he knew the pain was there but somehow he wasn't feeling it, dominated by the fury that was opening its way toward all the layers of his repressed feelings.

His attacker was certainly disturbed for not bringing down a boy considerably younger and smaller than him, because he repeated the dose and twice harder. Eric stammered but remained on his feet, his cheek palpitating as if his heart was residing inside his mouth.

"Is that all you've got?" he heard himself asking, wondering for the first time what the heck he was doing. The answer was confusing, starting from the fact that he realized that no matter how doomed he was, he was not afraid.

"No, this is!" the fat boy spat, punching Eric's cheek so hard that he made the smaller boy stagger. The ground beneath was waiting for him, Eric knew that perfectly well, but once again he defied logic and managed to stay on his feet, suddenly feeling strong, as strong as he had ever felt before.

But his sudden reassurance turned into frustration when a leg tripped him from behind, forcing him to return to the hateful ground. His frustration soon suffered another metamorphosis, as the thing burning his throat opened its way through the rest of his body. He felt his fists clenching, but he didn't care about that, too busy jumping to his feet and pouncing at whoever was standing in front of him.

Insane adrenaline took over when his fist impacted the flesh of his enemy, foreign blood splattered on his knuckles as he felt bones crunching beneath his fist. Satisfaction mixed with the adrenaline, intoxicating him like a drug. He was about to punch again the fat and tearful target before him, but a strong hit to his head came from behind, followed by an overwhelming wave of heat that spread through all his body.

He felt a tickling sensation invading his fingers. All of his body was feeling that way actually, and for a moment he would have sworn that the entire world had become fluorescent.

"_You fuckin' opened his fuckin' head, you asshole! Do you know who his father is?"_

"_I… I… he was going to kill Pete!"_

"_M-my nose… he broke my nose…"_

The voices arrived confusing to Eric's ears, a broken requiem for his momentum of bravado. A momentum that was reaching its end, as he realized as his body hit the ground again and he could smell the dirt beneath his nose. The heat behind his head was getting warmer every second, and also the viscous thing running through one of his temples.

He saw the three blurry figures running through the street as fast as a whisper. He also saw the broomstick resting beside him, moist of something dark. Hours later, when he woke up in an Emergency Room being treated for a mild head concussion, he realized that it had been his own blood that he had seen in that broomstick. He also recalled the only part of his body that had felt alive; his fist, beating like a heart, proudly showing the signals of his fleeting bravery, as fleeting as the watch his grandfather had given him for his birthday, which chose that precise instant to give its last tick.

* * *

Eric bent over and rested his hands on his thighs, panting agitatedly. His heart was beating so violently against his chest that he thought he was about to spit it up.

"Were you able to see my dust this time, Eric?" he heard Diana saying as her soft hand rubbed his back. "I have to say it, Cavalier, you used to be faster before, even when you carried a chain mail suit."

Eric returned to an erect position, thinking about a thing or two he could retort about his current lack of speed, but Diana had been so kind with him lately that he thought that the last thing she needed to hear was that the entire lower part of his body was still sore after a ferocious rape session he had suffered just a few days ago.

"It's easy… for you… to say it… It wasn't me who broke… the four hundred meters record that our high school had… for eleven years…" he panted, trying to catch his breath.

Diana laughed. "Ah, I'm surprised you remember that! I wonder if anybody has broken it already, or any other of my old records… But who cares, anyway? I'm more concerned about you. We need to work in your cardio if you want to recover your old speed. Not even I was able to beat you in the one hundred meters race to the back of a rock every time a danger appeared, remember?" she said smirking.

Eric blushed. Diana was right about his former disappearing acts, although Eric's speed hadn't exactly helped him during the past two months, when he had really needed to escape. He wished things had been so simple.

"Okay, if you have already caught your breath we should move on. Dinner won't serve itself, you know?" Diana continued, gently patting Eric's shoulder.

As reluctant as Eric was of being touched, her contact didn't bother him. Maybe because it never had. Ever since their arrival to the Realm, Diana had always had a very direct physical familiarity with him. That had seriously agitated his fifteen-year-old libido three years ago – after all, it wasn't an every day's thing that a girl with the body of a top model and dressed in a tight fur bikini bothered to include him in her personal space – but Diana had dissipated any possibility of infatuation very soon when she had made him the target of her insufferable teasing, a challenge he had gladly accepted and counterattacked. And now, three years later, he realized how tight the bonds between them were thanks to those almost uninterrupted forty six months of bickering at each other.

And for that, Eric would always be thankful.

"We'll cover more if we spread," Diana said, oblivious to Eric's thoughts. "I'll go that way and you stay around here. Sheila and Bobby must be close, keep them out of trouble."

She winked toward him before running away agilely, as graceful as always. Eric couldn't help to smile, wondering if he would ever be able to tell her how much she had helped him during the past few days.

When Diana got out of his sight, Eric sighed and prepared himself for returning to the always tedious task of finding something to eat in that damn place. The task was twice annoying now because he wasn't even hungry. His stomach had adapted to his stay in the castle, in which having something to eat wasn't something he experienced on a daily basis.

His so called current freedom should have returned his former big appetite, but that was another part of his old self that Eric just didn't care about anymore. Maybe the time was coming to acknowledge and assess the changes he had gone through during the two longest months of his life…

He startled, retiring his hand from a berry bush, his index finger bleeding thanks to the sharp spine that was proudly dripping his own blood. Yes, definitely Eric hadn't missed looking for whatever nasty the Realm had to offer for dinner time.

Normally he would have lectured Presto for not coming up with something resembling decent from his stupid Hat, but that was another thing he didn't give a damn about anymore. Eric wondered if the world – the Realm in this case – had changed so much during his absence, or if perhaps he was the one who had changed… Whatever the answer was, he was sure of one thing: he preferred the world as it used to be.

Muffled laughs from behind the bushes caught his attention. He could recognize the voices of Hank and Sheila.

Eric wasn't in the mood for sympathetic and condescending glares, so he decided that turning around and continuing his food quest somewhere else would be the best option. But when an unmistakable moan reached his ears, Eric felt his feet paralyzing on the grass.

A kiss…

That had been a kiss. Before he realized what he was doing, he approached to the bushes and peeked as discreetly as he could.

He knew what he was going to find, but it still hurt him.

Just some meters away Hank and Sheila were laying on the grass, their eyes closed, their mouths locked, their bodies intertwined…

Eric stepped back. He knew there was a big attraction between them, one of the reasons why he had stopped making moves on Sheila, but for the first time he realized that those two shared something more than a mutual infatuation.

They were in love.

Not without pain, Eric wondered if they had already slept together… if they had added to their bond that magical first time, that unique experience that was meant to remain in the mind of the lovers for all their lives, the one thing that couldn't be repeated…

If that was the case, certainly Hank and Sheila shared a beautiful memory.

So unlike _his_ first time… Eric clenched his fists when he remembered how his own 'magical' experience had been, brutally raped by Venger inside a dungeon…

Hank and Sheila shared softness, tenderness, love… His first time and the hundreds that followed had been filled with humiliation, roughness and lust… The contrast was so brutal that Eric couldn't help to hate himself more than ever. It was all his fault, it was all his goddamn fault… if at least he hadn't been so weak…

"Eeew… gross, isn't it?"

The voice startled him. He turned around and saw Bobby, also witnessing the scene but with nothing more than disgust in his childish mind.

"Can you imagine sticking your tongue inside somebody else's mouth? Gross! That's something you'll never see me doing, no way!"

_Depends on whose mouth… _Eric turned around, determined to stop having somber thoughts and concentrate on the accursed dinner.

But Bobby had his own determination: not to leave him alone. "They think none of us know," the boy continued cheerfully. "But my sister and Hank have been doing that for weeks. They started right after you were gone, you know?"

Eric felt hurt. He didn't have the right to feel that way, but imagining Hank and Sheila formalizing their relationship when his life had been in danger – not to mention his dignity – was disappointing. But then again, he couldn't have expected them to repress their feelings or their happy moments just because he had become the sexual toy of the Force of Evil himself…

"Fortunately it was Hank," Bobby went on. "I would have never allowed _you _to kiss my sister!"

Eric frowned. Did everybody in the Universe know about his crush on Sheila? Even that seemed so foreign now. That childish infatuation was something that his teenager self had had, but nothing that the trash of a man he was now could feel, if he could still call himself a man, of course…

"Give it a rest, shrimp," he said somberly. As Diana, Bobby also had the habit of messing with him, although the Barbarian lacked of the ironic finesse of the Acrobat and performed his harassing routine following blindly the common belief that the Cavalier was a coward.

"Ooooh… you're jealous!" Bobby cheered. "Eric is jealous! Eric is jealous!"

Eric grimaced, too tired to argue. He knew by experience that if he allowed Bobby to keep his rant he would eventually shut up and leave him alone, and loneliness was something that Eric needed urgently.

"Who's jealous?" Sheila said laughing, coming from the bushes with her hair slightly untidy.

"Eric!" Bobby said, pointing an accusative finger at the embarrassed Cavalier. "We were just watching you two guys making out!"

Sheila blushed, feeling obviously uncomfortable. Hank also came out from the bushes and noticed the awkward scene. His eyes immediately reflected that detestable protective attitude of his.

"That's not true!" Eric hurried to say. "Bobby is messing with me! And I wasn't staring… not in purpose, I mean… it was an accident."

That should have been enough, it was the truth anyway. And shouldn't the truth be enough? Eric cursed his ingenuity… of course not. The truth was never enough.

"Don't worry about that, Eric," Hank said with a fake smile. "I guess we should have told you before…"

"You don't have to tell me anything! You guys have your privacy and that's not of my business."

"That's not what you were saying!" Bobby sneered, blinking toward Eric and turning to his sister and Hank. "Eric was telling me that he has the hots for you, sis, and that he's jealous of Hank."

"That's not true!" Eric cried, embarrassment dressing him like a mantle of spikes.

The Barbarian burst in laughter. "Oh yeah it is, but I told'im to forget about it. I would prefer Venger for a brother-in-law before Eric!"

That did it. Eric's retort drowned inside him, his throat closed in pure anger. He seized Bobby by one of the horns of his helmet and violently shook it. The movement was so rough that Bobby's Club fell to the grass.

"You will shut up your dirty little mouth or I'll make you, did you understand?" he roared, his body trembling as it was being invaded by fury.

It all returned. The impotence, the humiliation… the overwhelming feeling that no matter what he did or said, he was a toy, a property, a poor coward lower than the filthiest bug. The entire Universe was mocking him, calling him names that he knew they fitted him.

He didn't hear the voices trying to tranquilize him, he didn't see the fear on Bobby's eyes… he just felt the touch on his arm, detonating the thing that was corroding him from inside.

He didn't realize when he turned around. He just saw Hank's face… deformed by the pressure of his fist. And then he remembered it, the satisfaction of feeling bones crushing beneath his knuckles.

Hank fall on his back and immediately grabbed his face. Thin lines of blood started to sneak between his fingers.

The same blood that moistened Erick's fist.

"Are you insane?" Sheila cried, hurrying to get to her knees beside Hank and shooting Eric a shocked glance. "You broke his nose! What's the matter with you?"

But Eric wasn't listening. His eyes were fixated on Hank, his fist eager to hurt the Ranger again.

"It should have been you," Eric hissed somberly. "It should have been you in that castle… not me!"

He turned around and started to walk, no matter where, he just wanted to get away from that place, get away from himself. He almost knocked down Bobby, who hurried to stay out of his way, looking at him with terrified eyes, like the child the Barbarian was after all.

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_DAY TEN_

Eric literally flew through the room, a feather carried by the wind crashing against the back wall.

He fell on his knees and rubbed his sore head. For a moment it seemed he would fall into unconsciousness, but something bigger than strength was moving him at that moment. He got to his feet and pounced at the one horned demon once again, no matter if the result was to be the same. He wanted to hurt Venger, he _needed _it.

As predicted, he couldn't get close to the Arch Mage. Venger was holding him back with some sort of spell – of course, the fucking coward would never lower himself to a clean fight – that made physical contact impossible, something that Eric was looking forward to have with Venger for the very first time.

The invisible strings pulled him into the air again, although this time he wasn't thrown against the wall as a puppet. He remained floating upside down, arms and legs spread, as Venger calmly stared at his naked slave with a lecherous glare.

"Let go me!" Eric cried, uselessly trying to move his body. "Fight, you fucking coward, fight!"

"_Fight…"_ Venger hissed, smirking. "Interesting choice of words."

He moved one finger of his lifted hand and Eric's genitals shook violently, hitting his lower stomach.

Eric growled in humiliation, Venger's laughter hurting him more than the shameful dance of his private parts itself. He had never felt as frustrated in all his life as he had felt during those ten days of hell.

"And since when does a cowardly worm like you asks for a fight instead or running away from it?" Venger said once he stopped laughing. "What happened to my frightened little Cavalier?"

"Just release me and I'll show you what happened!" Eric roared in response. "Stop hiding behind your lousy magic and fight like a man for once in your life, if you can be considered a man of course, you fucking monster!"

Venger sneered, obviously enjoying the pathetic spectacle before him. Suddenly the invisible restraints on Eric's limbs released him and he returned painfully to the floor.

But he didn't mind. He was free.

That meant he could get up again and attack the disgusting devil with all he had. And that's what he did, finding a target this time, although it wasn't a body that received his fist, but something harder than a stone wall.

Eric groaned in pain but didn't surrender. His next punch targeted the Arch Mage's face, but his fist was easily intercepted by Venger, who grabbed both of his wrists and immobilized him.

"You surprise me, Cavalier," the monster sneered. "I would have never thought you were capable of an act of stupidity such as this one."

Eric struggled violently, looking for a way to hurt Venger. It didn't matter if he ended up in pieces, he wanted to damage Venger. It didn't matter if he could only scratch him, he wanted the Arch Mage to feel pain again.

"If it's something as vulgar as a fist fight that you are looking for," Venger said, not allowing the struggling boy to move an inch, "you will have it."

Suddenly, Venger released one of Eric's wrists and his horrible white and clawed hand formed a fist.

Finally, the fucking monster would fight like a man…

But when the fist punched his genitals viciously, Eric knew that he had been too naïve expecting something related to a hand to hand combat.

He immediately grasped his aching groin and bent over himself, falling to the floor and curling into a ball, certain that he would never be able to give a heir to his aristocratic and ancient last name.

He heard Venger laughing above him, the disgusting foot of the Arch Mage poking his buttocks.

"Is that all?" the demon said. "I thought you said you wanted to fight."

"G-gggh…" Eric tried to speak but the pain didn't allow him. His cock and his balls were burning, literally burning. He only knew he still had them because he could feel them between his hands.

"Alright," Venger said. "Now that you have calmed down, we will talk."

Venger's magic lifted Eric again from the floor and firmly positioned him against the back wall, his arms and legs spread and immobilized. The young man winced, the pain between his legs still too intense.

Venger laughed evilly at the sight of the Cavalier's reddish genitals. "I can see that it hurts. I can tell that you know as well as I do that I am the only one who can take your pain away."

"No…" Eric hissed. "You won't touch me again! Ever!"

Venger smirked with superiority. "Is that so? And who is going to stop me from doing it?"

"You better kill me now because you won't rape me again, did you understand? Never again!"

Venger approached the motionless young man and run a finger through his cheek, lowering it to his chest. "Kill you? Was killing what you were trying to do last night, when you corrupted your pure soul in that pathetic attempt of assassination you performed? I have to admit it, Cavalier, you impressed me. I never expected you to hide a knife in the bed and drag me into your little trap like the treacherous whore you really are. Good plan. It could have worked with somebody else, but you forgot one slight detail: _I don't have a heart._ If you were hoping to fatally wound me, you chose the wrong spot."

Eric felt all his restrained body shivering in fear. That was nothing but the pure truth. That monster didn't have any heart indeed… and thus no weakness.

But his determination found a way to defeat his panic. Brown eyes stabbed red ones. "If you don't kill me, I'll do it myself. But know this, you fucking monster: you won't lay a finger on me again, ever less your disgusting cock! I won't die being your slave."

Venger remained silent, apparently impressed for Eric's display of bravado. Useless as it was, it was the only thing that Eric had left. The night before, as he had felt the overwhelming pleasure of inflicting his Master pain, he had decided that the obscene charade was over. He wouldn't allow that monster to rape him again. He would stop breathing, he would bite his own tongue until drowning in blood, but he wouldn't be Venger's sexual toy ever again…

Venger seemed to understand the strength of his resolution because, for once, he didn't laugh.

"I see…" the Arch Mage said, turning around and walking some steps away from his prisoner. "And believe me when I say that your words are worth of my respect. But you cannot expect me to release you so easily from the destiny I have chosen for you. You are to remain in this castle as my personal toy for all the time I consider convenient."

"That won't happen!" Eric roared.

Venger glared at him again. "Fear is not enough to put you back on your knees, neither is the possibility of returning to your world, I can see that… Time has come to reach a mutual agreement, then."

Eric stopped struggling against the magic that kept him immobilized. "What do you mean?"

Venger approached and stared at him seriously. "You and I will fight, for real this time. If you defeat me, you are free to go. But if I am the winner, you will remain in this castle and accept the role that I have imposed you."

Eric gaped. A duel with Venger, the same Venger that he and all his friends together had never managed to bring down? And there was also his nakedness, in both senses of the word… How in the world was he going to fight the Realm's Force of Evil himself when he had nothing but his hanging balls?

Venger must have been reading his thoughts because he spoke again. "I will allow you to wear your armour and your Shield again. If you manage to make me retreat one step, just one, I'll consider myself defeated. Just one step, Cavalier, and you will be free."

Free… that meant away from Venger, away from his lust, away from his touch…

"Deal," he heard himself saying.

Venger nodded and vanished in a white mist. At that precise moment, Eric was free to move again. He fell to the floor but this time he didn't feel the pain. He had even forgotten about the ache in his crotch, overwhelmed as he was by the hope of freedom.

_To be continued._

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_Reviews are very welcome._


	10. A foretold defeat

_Sorry for taking a while to update this fic, but I have been pretty busy lately. Before anything else, I want to wish you all the best for these holidays, and I want to thank you for your very kind reviews. I only tell the truth when I say that your comments are what encourages me to keep writing this story._

_Shoys, thanks for the warm welcome back! Sorry for disappearing again for a while, though :oP I'm glad you noticed the darkness I added to Eric's character, a necessary step to getting to this chapter. You'll see why._

_D. B. Cooper, thanks a lot for correcting my typos in the previous chapter and for your review. As fans of any cartoon show, we all see what we want to see, although sometimes we are given very clear hints. In the case of D&D, we never saw an open love scene between Hank and Sheila, but most of the fans like to pair them, as I'm doing here because it works for my story. As for Eric's crush on Sheila, 'crush' is the key word. My version is that he had, indeed, a crush for Sheila when he was fifteen years old, and as any other crush that a teenager of that age has, it lasted for a while and it was that, a crush, not real love. Now Eric is eighteen years old and that crush is nothing but an innocent memory of his teenage years. Besides, after what he lived in Venger's castle, I don't think he would care about that crush anymore. His violent reaction was because he felt humiliated and subject of a joke he definitely didn't enjoy, not because he was actually jealous of Hank. I hope you will enjoy the duel :o)_

_Bluetiger, you always read so thoroughly within all my lines :o) I agree with you about what you said about Eric. He was, by far, the most realistic character. I don't think running away from a nightmarish monster is a sign of cowardice, and I really doubt a group of kids would face creatures of the Realm's kind with so much bravery as Hank and company usually did. Fear is part of any human and, actually, not being afraid would mean having an important part of the brain damaged. So Eric was afraid because he was human, and because of the same reason he was brave when he chose to be, when he had the adrenaline rush that it took to stand against great danger, which he did plenty of times in the cartoon. Other key words that you mention are 'when he had nothing left to lose', which is exactly the situation in which he is in this precise moment of my story. Lol, plenty of broken noses in the previous chapter indeed, but as you said, doing that to Venger as well would have been too much ;o) I'm very glad you mentioned the interaction between Eric and Diana. She is, by far, the only one of his friends that is managing to get close to him, although getting too close to a hedgehog can be tricky. _

_Teenyiaa, thanks a lot for your review. It makes me very happy to have new reviewers. Really, people reading and commenting is what have me posting this story._

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* * *

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**Chapter 10**

**A foretold defeat**

Shadow Demon had witnessed his Master's anger countless times. He knew his coldness, his cruelty, his infinite despise for other creatures' lives… But _that _was no anger, _that _was rabid doom, utter and meaningless destruction, massive obliteration of useful assets…

A stream of dark blood pierced his bodiless form, suffocating the torch beneath. The Orc before him fell limp on the floor, his head partially severed and an abominable smile-like slice on his neck.

"I swear it, Master!" another terrified Orc cried as he was lifted from the floor by a powerful field of energy. "We kept permanent vigilance on the boy! We don't know what happened!"

"_Permanent vigilance…" _Venger snarled, casting an irate glance to the group of shivering Orcs that were cowering in fear at the sight of their half dozen mates lying dead at the Master's feet. "You all dared to submit _my _Slave to your filthy pleasures!"

The Orc seemed to paralyze. "Nnno… no, Master…"

Venger approached to the Orc. "You dare lying to me? You _smell _like him!"

Shadow Demon could feel the Orc's terror reaching a peak right before flames consumed him. The other Orcs followed that fate, even the ones that were innocent. Shadow Demon doubted the entire battalion had forced the Cavalier into their lowest appetites, but every single one of them paid the price.

"Find the Cavalier", Venger said, turning to Shadow Demon as if he didn't have fifteen dead Orcs at his feet. "He can't be very far away."

"The Magician used a teleportation spell, Master," Shadow Demon said, bowing before Venger. Of course his Master knew that, as he knew that in nine days the Dungeon Master's pupils could have covered a big distance.

Venger flamed Shadow Demon with the two burning orbs his eyes were. For a moment, the servant was relieved that he had been with his Master during those nine days that his Master was currently regretting so violently.

"FIND HIM."

Shadow Demon made a respectful reverence. "Your wish is my command, Master."

* * *

The crack on the thick trunk of the tree seemed like a cruel smirk as the flash of lightning coming from the sky illuminated it.

Venger had no doubt that fate was making fun of him, mocking him with all its sharp teeth. Rain kept falling over him, sneaking through his wings, moistening his face with false tears. And yet, he couldn't feel them, he couldn't feel anything but red-hot rage and the unbearable need to be somewhere else. Suddenly his castle seemed so empty, an overwhelming entity eager to devour him.

Another lightning bolt and the tree showed him its most cruel sneer. Venger frowned and impacted his flaming fist against the witness of his deception and his lie.

"What else?" he shouted. "What else do you want from me?"

Venger leaned his back on the tree, raising his head and noticing the storm for the first time.

Where?

Where was the Cavalier?

Where was _his _Cavalier?

Venger shook his head. He couldn't be far, not that far… The boy wouldn't dare to stay away from him for long, not after everything that had happened between them, not after the tacit oath he had taken with his body.

Venger never trembled, but he felt weakness taking over him as he remembered that body that had been his so many times. It was ridiculous, but the possibility of losing the Cavalier hadn't crossed his mind. The boy was _his, _in body and spirit, and it was meant to be that way forever.

He closed his eyes and concentrated all his power, searching, pleading for any crumb of the Cavalier's presence. At that moment, Venger would have pierced complete worlds only to find his slave.

But all he found was a wall, thick and immobile. He recognized the magic immediately.

"You…" he hissed to his father. "You dare to intervene now, when your dearest Cavalier's dignity is nothing but ashes between my fingers…"

He could see the Dungeon Master, standing firm between him and the object of his desire.

"Now!" he roared. "Now you choose to protect him, after you left him at my mercy all this time!"

His powerful energy challenged the storm, crying all the frustrated lust that was corroding him.

But his voice was even more powerful. Among thunder and chaos, Venger shouted _his _name to the skies. No Cavalier, no boy, no slave… just his short, beautiful name.

But no one answered.

* * *

_DAY ELEVEN_

Eric winced when he adjusted his leggings. He cursed Venger like for the umpteenth time during that day. He didn't know what sick pleasure the fucking monster had by humiliating him so much. What other reason could Venger have to give him back his clothing, all except his underwear? The chainmail felt very uncomfortable and raspy against his groin without underwear to protect him, but still, he wouldn't have changed that discomfort for anything else. Being clothed again felt like glory.

It wasn't only the fact of covering himself after ten days of very embarrassing nudity, wearing his armour gave him back a trace of his shattered dignity. For a moment he felt as if he wasn't Venger's sexual plaything anymore. He was Eric the Cavalier again. For how long, however, was something that only depended on him.

Eric sighed and looked at himself in the mirror. His chainmail suit was back where it belonged, so as his yellow breastplate and gauntlets, his red cape and his metal boots… And above all, there was his Shield, as shinny as he remembered it, the only thing that stood between his freedom and a life of soiled ignominy.

Eric tightened his grip on his Shield. He had carried that Shield for three years, making it the most important part of himself. It had been his saviour and his identity for those meaningful three years in which he had stopped being a child and turned into a man. And then, in just ten days, the man had been shattered and reduced into something so shameful that he didn't even dare to give it a name. Venger had called him a whore, but he was certain that whores had more dignity than him.

Eric shook his head. He was man, and not only because his age said so. He was the Cavalier, and he would prove it by making Venger taking that step back, even if he lost his life in the process. Returning to be the monster's fuck thing was not an option anymore.

He lowered his head, his grip on the Shield weakening. Who was he trying to fool? Did he honestly think that he could give the Realm's Force of Evil himself that little piece of defeat, the Arch Mage that not even the Dungeon Master could stop?

He must have been crazy when he accepted such a deal, and yet, there he was, preparing to fight an impossible battle.

He headed towards the door and carefully opened it. Maybe it wasn't too late to call the deal off… to fall on his knees and admit his defeat. He had been defeated since the very first moment in which Venger had touched him in such a wrong, filthy way. No, it had been before… it all had started since he had stripped for that monster only because he had been ordered to do it. It had been his fault, because he had surrendered to fear instead of fighting to keep his manhood, no matter if he lost his life instead. He was no child; he knew that Venger commanding him to undress leaded to one path only, one of pain and humiliation. And yet, he had surrendered.

His legs shivered as he stood beneath the threshold of the door, hesitant to take that definitive step. He didn't even know where to go. He had found his armour and his Shield in the room and that had been all. Venger hadn't said anything about the place or the time of the duel; Eric hadn't even seen the Arch Mage since their encounter the night before, in which the conditions of their duel had been settled.

It was only when he could smell the scent of the night through a small window near the ceiling when Eric realized that he had left the room and was actually walking through a corridor. He didn't know where to go, but his instinct guided him. The smell, the night… such a proper graveyard.

He had almost reached the big arch that led to the garden when he felt he wasn't alone. He stood as firmly as he could on his trembling feet, the grip on his Shield never weaker. His heart was pummeling his chest so hard that for a moment he thought it would pierce his armour, finishing off a battle that he was meant to lose.

Things only got worse when he caught sight of the countless pairs of eyes devouring him as predators.

Orcs… there were at least a dozen of them, waiting for him at the entrance of the gardens.

Eric swallowed. What did that mean? He was supposed to fight Venger, not his minions…

"Hey!" he managed to speak. "What the—"

Something cut through the air and grazed his ear, finding a destination on the wall behind him. Eric didn't have time to turn around to see what that had been, as new carriers of death targeted him. This time, however, he managed to react and put his Shield before him, stopping the two sharp spears that were looking for his heart.

Eric sank to one knee and hid as he could behind his Shield, wincing at the sound of what is seemed like a rain of spears crashing against his only defense.

What was he thinking, indeed, when he had fantasized about fighting Venger, when he couldn't even face his brainless servants?

When the symphony of lances stopped, he didn't dare to lean out. It would have been useless, though, as the stampede that followed anticipated what was coming.

Eric got to his feet but it was too late. One Orc grabbed his arm, the one that was holding the Shield, and another Orc sent him back to the floor by a powerful punch to his face, opening his lower lip. The laughter of the others was just as painful.

Eric grimaced in frustration, but mostly in defeat. He had been right. Everything had been useless after all. All he had managed to do was make a fool of himself. Now Venger would have his ass, literally, and would take any opportunity to remind him how weak and pathetic he was.

"Didn't I tell you that we would have our fun with you?" one of the Orcs snarled at him.

Eric groaned when the Orc's hand brusquely made its way through his tunic and got underneath his leggings, seizing his genitals and squeezing them cruelly. But that pain brought him something else besides humiliation. It brought him a realization. It was one thing to be Venger's sexual toy, but there was no way, no fucking way, in which those stinky Orcs would have their way with him…

Suddenly his right arm was burning, but he felt no pain at all. His Shield had been brought back to life and, once again, it had become one with his body.

Endless satisfaction engulfed him as he raised his arm and hit the Orc's face with the Shield. The creature growled in pain and was thrown backwards, one of his fangs left behind in a stream of blood. Eric didn't realize the moment in which he was on his feet again, but he faced all those Orcs as if they were ants. They were armed and they were strong, but in that moment Eric knew that they were no rivals for him.

Putting his Shield ahead of him, Eric started to run, opening his way through a wave of shocked Orcs who fell like bowling pins. Later, when he tried to recall that moment, all he could remember was the pride and the sick pleasure he felt as he realized he was actually hurting his enemies. His frenetic run didn't stop until his Shield hit and creaked a wall, a dozen unconscious Orcs scattered through the floor behind his victorious figure.

Eric breathed agitatedly but quickly forgot about the insignificant Orcs. All his attention was focused on the gardens before him, the place in which the real battle would happen, the place in which his fate would be decided.

This time, when he took that decisive step, he did it without any trace of fear inside his heart.

* * *

It didn't take a sharp mind to realize that he was in a 'One shall stand, one shall fall' situation. Eric had been in the Realm three years. In that time, he had faced death several times, but he had never felt the mixture of adrenaline, courage and anger that he was currently feeling.

Because he knew his situation wasn't as any other adventure he had lived with his friends. This time he wasn't before an ordeal set forth by the Dungeon Master in order to help some lost soul and, perhaps, to find a portal back home in the process – a portal that would shut its doors in his face, of course.

This time Eric would fight for himself, for his life, for his dignity… This time it was his battle alone.

He was on his own, and yet he didn't feel isolated, but most important, he wasn't afraid to die.

The demoniac figure standing before him sneered.

"I see you have lost your cowardice, Cavalier. I'll see to give it back to you. It is, you see, an important part of your charm."

Eric frowned. Of course he expected Venger to come up with all kind of hurtful words intended to undermine his strength, but the Arch Marge wouldn't get to him that easily. If the damn monster wanted beat him, he would have to fight honorably for a change.

"My cowardice lies in the same place you lost your other horn. Go and see if you can find them both, dick head."

Venger stopped smirking. The danger was twice latent now, but at least the fucking demon would stop his mockery and would focus only on their duel.

"You will be lucky if I allow you to keep your tongue after tonight."

Venger hadn't finished talking when his first attack was already illuminating the night. Eric stood firm and received the beam of energy, which ricocheted off his Shield and destroyed a nearby tree.

Eric took a deep breath, keeping his Shield still. He had survived the first round… the easy one for sure, but he had survived it. Whatever came after didn't matter anymore. Eric was certain that panic was a thing of the past.

A second attack made him step backwards, but still he managed to avert the dark energy toward another tree. Ishtar wouldn't be happy about that.

For a moment he wondered about the old gardener. He certainly was aware of the duel taking place in his beloved garden.

"Does that make you proud, Cavalier?" Venger hissed, not moving an inch. "Whoever carrying that Shield would have been able to avoid those mild attacks. The time has come to really test you!"

Eric had predicted that course of action, and he was definitely not as foolish as to remain waiting. He jumped aside at the same time that Venger shot a considerably more powerful attack at him, and he he swung his Shield as if it were a baseball bat, impacting the energy beam. He saw Venger raising a hand and stopping his own attack, an instinctive reaction but not one deprived of pain, as the smoking hand and the grimace on the face of the Arch Mage's proved.

"Argh, you little worm! You will pay for this!" Venger roared, putting both his hands into action and unleashing a storm of evil magic before him.

Eric got to the ground and rolled over the grass, crawling through bushes and branches frenetically until he reached a fallen trunk within the foliage and hid as best as he could. So far, he had lasted almost a minute in a one-to-one combat with the Force of Evil himself, something nobody would ever give him credit for. But now that Venger was fighting seriously, the real battle had commenced.

A drop of water fell on his cheek and made him blink. He cautiously looked upwards and was welcomed by two more drops. It was starting to rain.

"Come out from wherever you are, boy!" he heard Venger shouting. "You cannot hide from me!"

Another nearby tree burned in fire, victim of the Arch Mage's rage. Eric took a deep breath as he tried to calm down his agitated heart. He had never been so excited in his life, his adrenaline and his urgency to prove himself taking him to levels of courage he never suspected he had. But he needed a plan; he knew that he wouldn't make Venger take that step back with blind bravery. Yes, he was brave, or at least that's what he wanted to believe as the smell of burnt grass reached his nose.

He kept crawling through the grass. Venger's attacks kept spreading through the gardens, some of them so close to Eric that he could feel their heat and smell the rage within that evil energy, but cowardice insisted in staying away from him. It didn't matter what had happened; he had already won something, as he was certain that the only defeat he would accept would be his own death.

_You will never rape me again, you fucking creep, never ever!_

"Come out from whenever you are, boy! The only thing you are doing is prolonging your defeat, and trust me, that will be the only result of this charade! You're more stupid than I thought if you dared to believe that you could actually be a match for me! You are nothing but a cowardly worm. Aside from spreading your legs, you are completely useless!"

So Venger was attacking his self-esteem… what was new? What could he expect, after all, from a guy that took pleasure in raping him viciously?

But he wouldn't fall for provocations. Eric was very aware of his situation. His Shield was a weapon for defense. If he would have had any of his friends' magical weapons, then he would have certainly tried a different approach, but in order to turn defense into offense he would have to be smart. And all right, maybe his friends would differ, but he was no fool.

He tightened his grip on his Shield almost affectionately. That weapon was not only his defense; it was a part of him, of his manhood, another limb... He knew that Shield as well as he knew any other part of his body, and he perfectly knew how to use it.

Making good use of a nearby explosion that had blown a tree to pieces, Eric created a small force field. It had taken him a while, but as the years went by he had learned to handle that unique ability of his Shield. Creating force fields required a lot of concentration, but controlling them demanded everything of him. Fortunately, adrenaline and danger didn't seem to be a problem that didn't allow him to focus. The force field remained beside him, just as he wanted.

He rapidly rolled aside, hiding behind another fallen tree and repeated the process. Venger took the bait, because he immediately shot an energy beam toward the first force field, shattering it into pieces of light.

"Your little tricks are completely useless, Cavalier! Stop wasting our time so miserably and surrender! We both know that you are facing the impossible!"

"I'll show you something about impossible, you fucking rapist," Eric said in low voice.

For the next few minutes he climbed trees and sneaked through the foliage as a snake, creating force fields and confusing Venger, who never stopped firing his evil magic everywhere around.

The first part of plan was working; Venger was losing his patience, and thus, his concentration. The second part, however, would prove to be a hell of a lot more difficult.

The gardens were on fire, literally, burnt by Venger who was firing beam after beam in an attempt to destroy the force fields, which seem to multiply. The rain wasn't enough to suffocate the flames, not even when rain turned into a storm and lightning bolts added themselves to the creepy scenario.

Eric was completely soaked by then; he didn't know if it was because of the rain or because of his own sweat. All his limbs hurt, his body taking the toll of all those force fields he had produced. But fatigue was as foreign to him as fear at that moment. He didn't know if it was adrenaline anymore, but something kept him going. It was as if he had discovered a force within, something that he had never imagined was there. But it was, keeping him steady, pushing him to go further and further.

And the moment to unleash that force had arrived. Venger was closer to him than he had ever been during the entire battle.

It was now or never.

He jumped to his feet and pounced at the Arch Mage, hitting him with his Shield with all his strength. Venger, still distracted by a close force field, barely had time to turn around and protect himself with his arm from the Cavalier's assault.

Eric felt as if he had crashed against a wall of iron. But then he heard it… no, he _felt _it, the unmistakable sound of something breaking. For a moment he thought that his Shield had given up, but then he realized with the highest pleasure that the sound came from the other side of his rage. Bones breaking…

Venger roared in pain and cursed him, or at least that's what Eric thought he was doing because for a moment the Arch Mage spoke in an unmistakable language.

Eric hit his enemy one more time before retreating hurriedly. This time, the target was Venger's face, which received the open attack, much to Eric's satisfaction.

"You disgusting worm!" Venger growled as what seemed like thousands of volts of electricity erupted from his body.

Eric cried when the energy reached him, throwing him backwards violently. He crashed against a big boulder some meters behind and fell to his knees. The rain kept falling over him, but among all the cold drops of water bathing him, he could feel the thin line of warm blood running through his cheek.

He didn't feel pain, though. He decided to leave that to Venger, who was staring at him with the eyes of a demon. The fucker was hurt… he had an ugly wound on his face and his right arm was hanging limp from his body.

Under other circumstances, Eric would have been immensely proud of having broken the Arch Mage's arm and slicing his ugly face. But all that Eric felt was frustration, because Venger was standing in exactly the same place. Eric had failed in making him take that so wanted step back.

Eric stood up, slowly. He had no intention to hide anymore, even less to run. The time for the final confrontation had arrived and he would face it with everything he had.

Venger seemed to understand that as well.

"I underestimated you, Cavalier…" he said as dark blood fell through his face as impossible tears. "But that won't happen again. I will end this fight right now."

"No," Eric hissed. "It will be I who will end it! You're finished, you fucker! I'll make you pay for what you did to me! Do you hear?"

Venger smirked. "So brave words, my sensual toy… But it's time for you to learn your place, it's time for you to understand once and for all that you belong to me, that no matter what happens, you are mine and mine you will die. You are no warrior, but my whore."

Eric felt fury consuming him, challenging the storm. "Your words have no effect in me anymore, you asshole, so you better try something else!"

Venger laughed horribly. "And I will, Cavalier, I will… Time for playing games is over. You wanted a real fight and that's what you will have! What you are about to experience is my greatest power, the same magic that defeated Tiamat. Can your pitiful Shield stop it, my boy?"

Eric stood as firmly as he could. "I can stop anything coming from you! Come on, fuck face, show me what you have! Gimme your best shot!"

"As you wish."

And then hell was unleashed.

* * *

To say that Venger was surprised would have been a complete understatement. He was astonished, unable to recognize the shivering young Cavalier in that courageous rival that was confronting him.

The Cavalier was human, that alone was enough to guarantee his defeat. He was inexperienced too, and young, and pure hearted… And still, there he was, confronting an infinitely superior enemy, convinced that he had the slightest chance to win an already decided combat. Fighting the Dungeon Master's pupils had taught Venger some things about humans. Repulsive concepts such as comradeship and teamwork went beyond their empty meanings when those accursed children were involved. But the Cavalier was alone now, none of his friends to help him… Then why in the hell was this boy fighting so bravely, openly disregarding any concern for his own life?

It wasn't because of the Shield. Even before, when Venger had thought he had completely broken the boy, Venger had seen the signals of rebellion in the one who was supposed to be his slave, his pathetic attempt of assassination being the ultimate proof.

And now all the boy's rage and determination had reached their pinnacle. Venger realized the danger and decided that it was time to kill the Cavalier's spirit once and for all.

And there was only one way to do it. Defeating him, defeating him so utterly that the boy wouldn't have any other choice but accepting his fate, surrendering his soul as he had surrendered his body.

It had been a while since Venger had used his most powerful spell for the last time. And he hadn't lied. It had happened that distant, glorious day in which he had defeated Tiamat, the only creature he feared.

And now he would use that same magic against a simple human boy… The thought alone was beyond ridiculous, even shameful, and yet it was about to happen. Venger knew that the boy's chances of survival were minimal, but the situation was reaching a level that Venger had never expected and he was forced to take extreme measures.

When he unleashed his fatal attack he was certain that he would feel a shadow of remorse. But all he felt was surprise, as his most powerful spell collapsed against the will of iron of that insignificant human boy.

Venger repressed a growl of frustration. It was supposed to be so easy… no human, pupil of Dungeon Master or not, should have been able to stop his power. Magic weapons made no difference either; as resistant as the Shield was, Venger was very capable of destroying it, just as he had wounded Tiamat's flesh, just as he had caused the beast overwhelming suffering.

That's why Venger couldn't believe what his eyes were looking at when the Cavalier stopped the attack.

But it was more than that. An impressive amount of energy was emanating from the Shield, its essence and its owner's mixed in one, combating and repelling Venger's magic. An immense amount of energy kept pending between both combatants, none of them willing to take the infamous step back.

Venger never dreamed, thus never had nightmares, but that moment was very soon becoming into his first experience on that matter. A human… fighting him as an equal… impossible. Venger couldn't even remember the last time he had felt so disturbed during a fight, or the last time in which he had actually been afraid of losing…

He tried to speak but he couldn't, all his concentration focused on the power emanating from his very core, all his power focused in defeating that stubborn enemy. That accursed boy… that good for nothing Cavalier!

But almost immediately he realized that the boy was very far from enjoying his impossible feat. The Cavalier seemed to be in trance, his eyes closed and his face showing the overwhelming effort he was making to keep his Shield still. It wasn't rain, but sweat that was covering his face, the veins of his neck protruding, threatening to explode, his grimace of intense suffering, every muscle of his body so tense…

The Cavalier was not willing to accept a defeat. He would give his life to win that fight.

And then, Venger saw it, the unique shine coming from the Shield… It couldn't be, it was impossible… Normally it would have taken a lifetime to achieve such a thing, even for an experienced warrior, but somehow the Cavalier had managed to take his magical weapon to its maximum power, something that none of his friends was even close to achieving with their respective weapons. The Shield of the Dragon's Graveyard had reached its maturity, guided by the hand of his true owner.

The Cavalier was starting to become a Knight…

Venger concentrated all his energy and increased as much as he could the power of his attack. He couldn't allow that to happen, he had to stop the Cavalier right then, otherwise Venger would lose the boy forever, and that thought alone was unbearable.

Pain was corroding his arms, he felt his fingers melting as they couldn't stand so much power, but Venger would not retreat, even less stop. If his body exploded from the effort, so be it, but he had to return the Shield to its dormant state no matter if he lost his life in the process.

Desperation was starting to lick his blackness when he was reminded that his rival, even though magnificent, was only a human.

The boy retreated one step, then another one… the immense pressure on his Shield was overwhelming, and the body of the warrior started to act against his spirit. The human weakness would decide the battle, after all.

The boy seemed to notice what was happening because he opened his eyes. It wasn't only sweat, but tears what were running through his cheeks as the effort he was making proved to be too much for his mortal body.

The Shield dazzled impressive as it made its final stand. A sphere of energy formed between man and monster, a beautiful yet deadly spectacle that exploded into shreds of defeat for one and bitter victory for the other.

The Cavalier was propelled backwards with so much force that he broke a tree with his body. He was unconscious long before he finally hit the ground. His cape was in shreds, his breast plate partially burned, his body lax… but his hand remained attached to his Shield.

Venger's trembling hands finally lowered, dark blood coming from countless wounds on his hands and arms. He slowly reached the grass beneath him and slowly pushed himself upwards, managing to sit. It hadn't been one, but a dozen, perhaps more, the steps he had retreated. And he hadn't only been forced to retreat. He had been thrown to the ground, his greatness humiliated…

The Cavalier had won.

"Master," he heard the voice of his servant whispering.

Venger stood up, sustaining his weight laboriously on the creaked tree beneath him.

"Is the Cavalier free, then, my Master?" Shadow Demon spoke again, casting a glance toward the limp form of the Cavalier.

"No," Venger said. "Now, more than ever, he stays."

_To be continued._

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_The 'One shall stand, one shall fall' line belongs to the Transformers Universe. Loving that fandom as I do, I just couldn't help to use it in this chapter._

_Please click the review button and let me know your comments. Merry Christmas to you all!_


	11. Rain and tears are made the same

_Oops, once again I took a while to update… It was never my intention to take two months for this chapter, but you know how it works, real life gets in the way._

_Hey Shoys, thanks very much for always being the first to review :o) I re watched the entire series to get more comfortable with the characters, especially Eric and Venger. Concerning Eric, I've spent a good amount of time deciding how I want to portray him here. Basically, I've tried to respect his personality, but there's of course a big part of his character that I have had to develop myself because the cartoon never showed, even hinted, a situation as serious as the one he's suffering in my story. Returning to the cartoon, we had the Eric that was a specialist in running at the first signal of trouble, but we also had the very brave Eric that behaved like a true Cavalier in no few occasions. Considering that he was that way when he was fifteen years old and that he had spent three years in the Realm living under really dangerous conditions, I assumed that his courage increased and that, immersed in a situation in which his life and dignity were endangered, he would have reacted accordingly, as he did when he challenged Venger and actually put a very decent fight against him. Such a shame that Venger didn't accept his defeat._

_KichiMiangra, I love new reviewers! Thanks so much for your strange inhuman sound, I loved to hear it :o) I'm very happy that you find my story intense and realistic. That was my main concern, mostly because this story was going to include a lot of adult material and I didn't want it to be only a smut story. Despite the M rated scenes, I have a plot in mind._

_D. B. Cooper, thanks for your kind wishes and for correcting my last chapter's grammar mistakes! I also noticed how when pulling the chapter bar, chapter one says chapter one instead of its title. I don't know how to correct that, because ever since posting the story the site didn't allow me to name the first chapter in other way. I don't remember that happening before, I guess it's some change ffnet did. I have been writing Transformers fanfiction in this site for about three years now, and that problem didn't happen with my first stories. It started a short time ago. If you happen to know how to correct it, please let me know. As for the previous chapter, Venger never defeated Tiamat in the cartoon indeed, but I wrote that scene thinking that Venger could be bluffing a little. After all, honestly wasn't precisely amongst his qualities. But aside of that, I think that he and Tiamat must have fought many times during the centuries, so Venger could have, at least once, had the upper hand._

_Bluetiger, wow… you read through my chapters better than I do ;o) I love how you notice all those little details that I include that, at the end, are very meaningful. Obsession is the key word here as you pointed out, as obsession is the beginning of so many things. I'm not going to talk about the L word right now, as there are many turns that an obsession can take, but I'm doing my best here to imagine the kind of situation Eric is going through and where it can lead. There are feelings involved between Venger and Eric of course, they have to be when an intimate physical relationship is involved, but their evolution is yet to be seen. I'm trying to be as realistic as possible regarding their relationship, and I'm doing the same with Dungeon Master's involvement, or lack of involvement… I'm glad you liked the fight scene because it was not an easy one to write. It took me a while to decide what exactly I wanted to show in that fight and how to achieve it. We saw obvious glimpses of Eric's inventiveness during the show, and I think during a life and death situation he would become even more inventive. Desperation does that to a person, and Eric may have been the comic relief of the series, but he was no fool. I also wanted to stand out his relationship with his Shield. We saw our favorite characters carrying those awesome magical weapons everywhere, but the bond they had with them was barely explored. I remember how powerful they were at the Dragon's Graveyard, and I figured that that maximum power had to be related more with the maturity of the carrier than with the place of origin of the weapon. On the other hand, your suspicious about Venger's behavior during his fight with Eric will be properly addressed next chapter, or the chapter after that one, it all depends on how I organize all my notes, lol. Thanks again for the blow-minding review!_

_Slipstream110, very nice to receive your review! Hot, lol… Well, I'm aware that some people may consider this story wrong, and others hot. I'm glad you are amongst the latter group. Personally, I think that despite the way we think about certain issues, every well written story deserves to be read, and that's exactly what I'm trying to do here: writing a good story that fulfills its purpose of entertaining the readers._

_Okay now, after the very long author's notes, here you have the next installment. Enjoy!_

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* * *

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**Chapter 11**

**Rain and tears are made the same**

"Take your time, Eric."

Eric averted his head, unable to look directly at those blue, waterish eyes.

"All the time you need."

There, that awful, tacky red flowerpot, the perfect place to fixate his eyes and pretend he didn't notice anything else in the world.

It worked, at least for about two minutes. Or maybe more; he had forgotten to measure time in those simpleton terms.

"Eric."

_Geez, old man, are you going to keep the pitiful act forever? I'm already sitting on this fucking divan, aren't I? But you've completely lost it if you think I'm actually going to lie down and tell you all my dirty secrets!_

"Tell me about your childhood."

Eric couldn't help to snort. _Are you kidding me, Doctor Freud? All those diplomas on the wall and all you manage to ask is like the most stereotyped question ever? Really, what's wrong with shrinks these days?_

A sigh. "It's been two months, Eric."

_Yup, and three sessions a week, sometimes more… Five hundred bucks an hour, easy money for you, doc. Don't worry, my dad will keep paying you as long as you keep his disgusting raped son out of his sight._

"Two months… enough time for you to know that you can speak freely inside this room. Nobody will judge you."

_Is that so? Then the look of pity in your eyes is not exclusive for me, after all? Damn! And to think that I was beginning to feel special…_

"Eric…"

_Yes, I'm already aware that you know my name._

"There's no reason for you to feel ashamed, no reason at all."

_Right… being the bitch of the Realm's Force of Evil is not shameful at all… Actually, I should be proud!_

"You were a victim, Eric. Nothing that happened was your fault."

Suddenly, he couldn't hear his own thoughts. All he could hear was some muffed, distant water falling. Was it raining somewhere? An overwhelming nothingness started to take over. Keeping his stare locked at the red flowerpot was more difficult than ever.

Small sheets of paper turning, a notebook containing all his darkness. "O-kay… it says here that you were Venger's prisoner during fifty eight days…"

The walls started to palpitate like a heart. _How the fuck did you know that? I never told—_

"How many times did he sexually abuse you during that time?"

He felt his legs starting to shake; the rest of his body followed. He didn't feel the sweat on his forehead, too busy focusing his astonished glance on the man of the blue, waterish eyes.

"Did he do it every day?"

"W-what…" he heard himself speaking.

The man continued leafing through his notebook. "Or perhaps he left you alone some nights only to return the day after to fuck the hell out of you?"

He stood up so fast that he almost fell to the goddamn red, carpeted floor. "How… how dare you… You have no right to talk to me like that! You don't know what happened!"

The blue, waterish eyes looked at him with sympathy. "Oh no, my dear boy, you are not here to talk about what happened. We both know exactly what happened, don't we?"

Eric gaped, his voice gone.

_He_ closed the notebook. "So, Cavalier, perhaps now you can tell me the exact moment in which you started to enjoy it."

* * *

A very intense light illuminated the night, anticipating the resounding thunder that could be heard almost immediately. Diana felt a shiver running through her spine, more because of the coldness than because of the horrible worm stationed on the trunk of the tree that she was so close to touch.

She had been walking for at least three hours, one of them under one of the nastiest storms she could remember since her arrival to the Realm. She wasn't very sure where she was and the way back to the camp was close to be an enigma, but in that moment she couldn't have cared less about those matters.

Diana was angry and desperate. She hadn't hesitated to go after Eric as soon as she returned to the camp and got the news about the Cavalier's rant. Sheila, too busy crying and attending her blooding boyfriend, had filled her with a very subjective version of what had happened. Presto wasn't very helpful either; the Magician had fallen into one of his childish, autistic moods and had suggested that maybe Eric needed some time alone to vent all the anger he was certainly carrying inside. Bobby had called Eric all kind of offensive names, doing his best to hide the look of fear in his eyes. As for Hank, maybe he would have gone after Eric if he hadn't had his hands full trying to calm down the others and pretending his twisted noise didn't hurt that much. That left her, Diana, as the only candidate to retrieve the lost Cavalier and try to save the day.

So, after promising Presto she would light up the flare he had managed to pull out from his Hat in case she would get in trouble, she departed, doing her best to follow the trace of the Cavalier.

It wasn't the first time Diana had been on her own since her arrival to the Realm, but she couldn't remember having been so desperate. It was more than that; she was angry, irate would have been a better word to describe it. She didn't know why, though. All she knew was that she had to find Eric, and not precisely to give him a pep talk.

Her right foot fell into a concealed pool of mud. She immediately got it out and shook her boot, muttering a rough word between clenched teeth. The F word was not normally amongst her vocabulary, but suddenly realizing that she was walking blindly under one of the worse storms she had ever witnessed without any idea where she was going and dressed with the most inadequate outfit for that kind of weather was definitely unnerving material. She had no idea where Eric was and the probabilities of finding him were as small as finding a portal home. What could be a better motivation for crying out the _fuck _word to the skies?

She saw a rectangular form at the distance and she immediately directed her steps towards there. As she approached, she realized it was a small hut, abandoned by the looks of it. She leaned on the back wall – although to call it a pile of debris would have been more proper – and took a look inside. The place was deserted for sure, nothing but an old bed and a chair that were in the same shattered status as the rest of the construction. For a moment she wondered if zombies were going to jump out of nowhere as it had happened the last time she and her friends found a hut like that. She smiled slightly at the memory of that first zombie trapping Eric. She had teased him for months for the way he had screamed.

She wished so much that they could return to those times of innocence in which Eric and she spent a good amount of the day pestering each other, when the ghost of abuse and obscenity hadn't destroyed an unnerving, snob and arrogant, but good young man.

She sighed and tried to put herself together. The cold was getting more and more intense, but she suddenly started to feel hot at the same time. Great, perfect timing to catch pneumonia… It couldn't be that bad but she was sure she would get at least a good flu; she was feeling tired and for an athlete who _never _got tired, that was definitely not a good omen.

She was about to keep going when she caught sight of something through one of the so many holes on the wall. Her sudden relief turned into anguish when she hurried to get to the front of the hut and found the solitaire, hunched figure sitting on what once had been a porch. All traces of her former anger vanished.

"Eric…" she whispered to herself, realizing for the first time what she was really facing. She had been blinding herself about Eric since his return from Venger's castle, just like her friends.

Eric didn't seem to notice her. He continued motionless, his face half hidden amongst his hands and his body paler than ever as the streams of water ran freely through his skin. He was wearing no clothes at all.

But it wasn't his nakedness what shocked Diana the most. It was the expression of absolute devastation that could be read on his tired face. Eric's suffering was overwhelming, his torture completely out of Diana' understanding.

She approached carefully, noticing the shivering of his body. She glanced around as she walked, but Eric's clothes were nowhere to be seen. The storm had began to die down, but the soon promise of a silent rain only made her feel more uncomfortable. It meant that taking care of the silence would be only her responsibility.

"Eric…" she said softly when she was only a couple of steps away from him.

He didn't react.

"Eric, it's me, Diana," she spoke again, a little louder this time.

He turned aside slightly and glared at her, or at least that's what she thought he did. His brown eyes were so opaque and empty that it was as if he was looking only at the darkness that engulfed him.

"Eric, can you hear me?" she said, making sure to repeat his name and keeping her stare fixated on his face, always on his face.

After a moment of silence she started to desperately wish that Hank was there. He would know what to do, broken nose or not. Diana was usually very resourceful, but she had no idea of what to do with a soaked, half frozen, naked Cavalier in the middle of a mental breakdown.

It was in nights like this in which Diana hated her Acrobat outfit. But now it was not only the cold, but the urgency to have something, anything to cover her friend's nudity. Sheila's Cloak would have been so welcomed, just as it had been when Eric had been found in the dungeons of Venger's castle…

She sat beside him and carefully placed a hand on his shoulder, which felt as cold and hard as ice. "Eric, we need to get into the hut. It's getting colder out here and we will freeze to death."

She was sure he would flinch the moment she touched him, but he only looked at her hand with the same lost, empty expression.

"Come with me, Eric", she insisted. "We can't stay here."

He said something, his voice muffled by the rain and his own weakness. She leaned toward him, reminding herself to keep her stare always up.

"It didn't work..."

She frowned, her curiosity interrupting momentarily the awkwardness of the moment.

"The rain… it won't purify me…"

He couldn't go on, an agonic sob interrupting his words. Diana felt her eyes wet, and not because of the rain.

She took a deep breath and faced him again. She needed to be strong. More than ever, she needed to be strong. "Is that what you were looking for, Eric? Purification?"

Diana hated herself. _Was that the best you could say, you fool? _But, once again, she was remembered that as mature as she was for her seventeen years of life, she was far distant from being ready to know how to address a rape victim, because that was exactly what she was facing.

He placed his shaking hands on his knees, or at least that's she saw out of the corner of her eye.

"The things he did…" he whispered.

Diana felt her heart beating painfully against her chest. Eric directly addressing his ordeal should have been a positive thing, but she was far too sad and horrified to realize it. She needed to be strong, she needed to be strong…

"The things he did to me…. he… he wouldn't stop…"

She didn't know what she was supposed to do, so she put her arm around his shoulders. Hank had said that Eric would be very uncomfortable about being touched for a while, but she didn't care. He needed some warmth, some small reminder that he deserved to be touched in a gentle, innocent way.

"It won't happen again, never again. You are safe now," she said as reassuringly as she could. She was aware that nothing she said could give him any relief about his horrible immediate past, but it had to help somehow, anyhow…

She was surprised when he leaned against her, his soaked head resting on her chest.

"He didn't stop… not even once… Ah, Di… the things he did to me…"

He had said her name. Even if a diminutive, it had to be good. That meant he realized she was there, that he wasn't alone anymore. But whatever relief she could have felt from that was gone when the drops of rain falling on her chest turned warm.

Eric was crying.

She tightened her embrace over his shoulders and started to caress his hair with her free hand. She realized that words would be useless, so she focused her energies in providing him the sweetest caresses she had ever given to anybody, allowing him to let go some of his overwhelming pain in the shape of so much needed tears.

They stayed that way for endless minutes, no more sound than rain and the crying of a young man who had been mortally wounded. Diana closed her eyes, feeling his anguish, his embarrassment, his infinite pain… And then she understood that what Eric had gone through was much more complicated than she had thought, than anybody could have thought. The way to heal him would be slow and difficult, and that if healing was possible at all.

* * *

_DAY THIRTEEN_

_Head?_

Check.

_Chest?_

Check.

_Arms?_

Check.

_Legs?_

Check.

_Eye lashes?_

Check.

_Ass?_

He didn't want to go there.

It was official. _Everything _hurt. Only when he reached that realization did Eric dare to open his eyes, using whatever ashes were left of his strength.

Strength… The word itself seemed laughable, like an obscenity that would gain him a good lecture and a slap on the cheek from his mom. All the events of the past few hours – or maybe days – were blurry. For a moment, Eric wondered if they had happened at all. Maybe it all had been a bad dream.

He rolled to one side, his aching body complaining for the roughness of his mattress. He snorted. That was no mattress of course; it was a stone ledge protruding from the wall, an irregular, dark wall that smelled like humidity… the wall of a dungeon.

The ultimate irony of life was how reality could be worse than bad dreams.

His eyes glared nonchalantly at the big spider stationed on the wall at just mere inches from his face. He didn't even blink. The same thing that would have scared the hell out of him before, now it only caused him tedium. Most likely, the spider wouldn't bite him, and if it did, who cared.

The only thing that surprised him was the fact that he was still wearing his armour. Laboriously and wincing because of his sore body, Eric assumed a sitting position and decided to test that realization. Maybe the armour was a mirage too; he was feeling so numb that he was sure that his first impressions were not to be trusted.

But this one turned to be very accurate. He was using his Cavalier outfit indeed. His cape was gone, nothing left but a rag of torn, red textile around his neck, and his breastplate was burnt and partially broken, but aside from that, it was _his_ armour, the same armour he had worn since Dungeon Master had chosen him to be the Cavalier.

His stomach complained, but he disregarded it. Perhaps he was hungry, but he didn't care. He actually didn't feel hungry, as he didn't feel anything else. The dominant thought towering him was proving to be so overwhelming to bear, and every second that he remained conscious was a reminder that he had to face it and accept it… like a man.

He snarled at the thought. _A man… yeah, right, such a man I am…_

He had lost.

He had lost his duel against Venger.

And now he would have to pay the price.

It wasn't the fact that he had lost the most important challenge of his life what was bothering him. It was the total destruction of his hope and of the image he had of himself… For a moment, he had thought he would make it, that he would be able to make the Arch Mage take that one _– just one! –_ step back…

But he had failed. He had failed in what he was sure any of his friends would have succeeded. _He _had been right by calling him a worm, because that was exactly what he was.

He had lost.

Eric stood up and walked to one corner to make his daily morning business, the one thing he decided not to deny to his body. He smiled weakly, pitying himself; he had always complained that his chainmail leggings didn't have a zipper, and thus made of taking a pee something annoying and a very vulnerable moment. One time that he had complained about that, Diana had told him that it would serve him good to know how girls felt about that matter.

As he urinated, he realized that he didn't know if it was morning or night, he didn't even know if it was day ten, or eleven, or fifty… Perhaps he should start to carve lines on the wall to keep a more accurate count, but then again, nothing guaranteed that he would be in that same dungeon the day after.

He touched his chin and cheeks, finding his skin just a little rough. Tact had already showed him that there was no hair beneath his lower stomach either… Then it couldn't be more than one day since the duel had happened, two at the most… Either that, or somebody had been shaving him. Now that was a disturbing thought that managed to make him grimace.

As he didn't dare to look downwards – maybe to avoid thinking as much as he could in what would happen sooner than later to that part of his anatomy – he raised his head and fixated his glance on the ceiling. There was one torch half illuminating the dungeon, creating spectral shadows that seemed to be observing him. But Eric couldn't have cared less about darkness and its associates. His ordeal was far worse than imaginary monsters stalking him from every corner. Reality sucked, much more than any childhood nightmare, and it got even worse when said reality happened in a world that seemed extracted from the most bizarre fantasy. Yeah, such piece of crap the Realm was…

He finished his business and returned to the ledge, having only the will enough to sit there, fold his legs against his chest and embrace them. What else could he do, but waiting? Day, night, it didn't matter… _He _would come.

Hours went by, he didn't know how many, but once again he didn't care. He spent those hours watching the wall nonchalantly, his mind blank and his will dead. He had some fleeting moments of lucidity in which he wondered where his friends were and what they were doing. Did they miss him, think about him, wondered what had happened to him? Well, he missed them, especially Diana and her smart-ass retorts, hurtful sometimes, but always very clever. He would never hear the end of it if Diana found out that he was Venger's bitch now.

He also wondered at some point if it was Friday, because his mother always played Bridge on Fridays… And she used to lose small fortunes, but daddy didn't care because he earned much more than his wife could lose in a thousand lifetimes. And there were also the empty bottles of bourbon, and the silences, and his mother talking funny and pinching his cheeks and telling him how he was going to be more handsome than his father, and everybody was happy…

Suddenly, his mother was gone, so were her jeweled hands and the smell of her perfume.

_He _was there.

Eric didn't hear anything, didn't see anything, but he knew.

_He _had come to claim his prize, to demand him to honour his word, the word he had given him in some incredibly stupid moment of insane courage.

Seconds seemed like hours as silence spread. Finally, a very tired Eric raised his head and acknowledged his doom.

"Why didn't you just kill me?"

Soft, cavernous laughter sent chills down his spine. "Why Cavalier… where would be the fun in that? Killing you, indeed, would have been the easiest thing to do. But I recall we made a deal."

Eric closed his eyes. He didn't even know if he still had a word. He had lost so many things during that duel that he didn't dare to enlist them. All that was left of him was scraps. He was that miserable, weak, insignificant persona which was good for one thing and one thing only…

He stood up, confronting the two eyes that were fixated on him. Despite of the cold, he started to remove his armour; slowly, not because of fear or hesitation, but because he had very few energy left.

Once he was nude, he stood still at the middle of the dungeon. Waiting, waiting… what else could he do but waiting?

_Oh, right! _he slapped himself mentally. There was something else.

He got to his knees and put his forehead on the floor. The movement was not abrupt, but still it hurt him like a terrible wound.

"Master…" he said in low, defeated voice.

He heard Venger laughing softly and yet manically. It was a fortune that Eric was still on his knees and with his head against the floor, otherwise Venger would have seen the tear that came from one of his eyes and ran through his forehead. Venger would have mocked him for sure.

Because he had a word, because despite all the scum he was now, he still had enough honour to keep his word. He had lost the duel, and thus his fate had been decided. Resisting was not an option anymore.

Something landed next to his head.

"Put it on."

Eric turned aside. Right next to his face, there was some sort of leather harness.

"How… how am I supposed to—"

Venger shot him an angry look. "Put the collar around your neck."

Eric remained on his knees and hurried to obey. The leather strap closed easily around his neck; it fitted so good that it seemed to be especially made for him. He also figured out that the harness was supposed to be wrapped around his upper chest, but that left a leash attached to a metal ring with apparently no use.

Venger signaled downwards with his finger.

_Oh, no…_

Blushing, Eric secured the ring around the tip of his penis. Also there, the god damn thing fitted perfectly.

"Get on your hands and knees."

Eric obeyed, his hands making a dry sound against the floor.

"A dog," Venger hissed, watching his victim submitted. "You are lower than a dog. Learn your place, Cavalier, which is at my feet, _always_ at my feet. Get used to be face down, because the ground will be your kingdom."

It was amazing how an extreme dose of humiliation inflicted in the perfect timing could return Eric to full consciousness so abruptly. The consequences of his utter defeat were suddenly forcing him to acknowledge the life he would have from now on. What had started as a nightmare had become his life. He would spend the rest of his days satisfying Venger's sick pleasures.

"Go to my throne room," Venger said. "Don't delay, and don't you dare to stand up!"

And then Venger was gone. If he had vanished or simply walked out of the dungeon, Eric couldn't have told. He was very busy facing the floor beneath him… _like a dog._

_What now? Am I supposed to bark?_

He started to crawl towards the door. An important part of him couldn't believe how he was complying so docilely with such humiliation. The other part, the one that had failed so miserably in managing to make his Master taking that insignificant one step back, just averted its glance.

As he crossed the threshold, he wondered where the heck Venger's throne room was. Obviously, in the forbidden zone of the castle, so he took the opposite direction to the garden.

Very soon he realized how much crawling hurt, especially when the thing beneath his knees was cold, solid rock. But the real suffering was about to begin, as he realized when he started to find Orc soldiers and other creatures that didn't waste a second to mock him.

Eric blushed so violently that he was sure his face was burning, but he continued his shameful journey through the endless corridors. But of course they had to mock him... He had to be the most degrading image the Realm had ever seen. He knew he would mock himself, if he could see himself crawling, wearing nothing but some obscene harness strapping his neck and his cock.

The tears of shame were so difficult to contain, so, so difficult… All that Eric wanted was for the floor to open and swallow him, or perhaps to be electrified by a lightning bolt, or at least to be stabbed to death by one of those Orcs that would be certainly looking forward to make him pay for what he have done to them the night before… Anything would have been better than the ultimate humiliation he was going through. He couldn't help to notice how disgrace never managed to bore him. Every time he had thought he had lived the worst moment of his life, something new happened and took that hated first place. He had had time to test that theory during his stay in the Realm, but the past few days at Venger's castle had turned the theory into an unquestionable rule.

After what it seemed like an eternity of ignominy, he arrived to the throne room of the castle, or at least that's what he thought it was. The room was huge, the ceiling taller than in any other zone of the castle, but the place lacked of luxuries. There was a reddish carpet, partially illuminated by the torches scattered through the walls, and there was Venger's throne, big, rustic but impressive… Venger himself was sitting on it, and ordered him to approach with a single movement of his finger.

Getting used to be a dog would be easy, but infinitely painful.

* * *

The remainder of the day was just as hellish. After his unceremonious entrance to the throne room, Eric had been completely ignored by his Master. That didn't give him any relief, though. He had spent the next few hours at Venger's feet, doing his best to cover his nakedness with his hands and trying not to make eye contact with any of the countless creatures that entered and left the room in the most colorful display of freaks Eric had ever seen.

But he was sure he was the biggest freak of all, as there was not a single visitor that didn't stare at him with amusement, curiosity, disgust and even lust. Of course, he was the Force of Evil's sexual plaything… of course they had to stare at him. Who wouldn't stare at a poor, naked excuse of man whose only use was to spread his legs?

He could barely catch whatever his Master and his subjects discussed during those hours of hell. Once again, Eric realized that English was not precisely the main language in the Realm. But, then again, Eric couldn't have cared less for all those strange languages he heard that day. Instead, he decided to fixate his attention on the big candlestick above; none of his candles was lightened, but still it gave him a reason to try to keep his mind away from all those eyes feasting in his nudity. Of course, he failed miserably. Humiliation was a mantle that he would have to wear for life.

When one Lizard Man, a boss of some kind because of his distinctive outfit, left the throne room and nobody else entered, Eric realized that time for phase two had arrived.

"So, Cavalier, how was your first day as a dog?"

Finally, his Master was acknowledging him… Venger's voice wasn't rude. It was quite the contrary, it sounded relaxed and composed, even kind… For some reason, that scared Eric even more.

"Ah… I…"

Venger moved one of his fingers and the tip of the leash of Eric's harness rose like a snake and landed on his hand.

"I made you a question, boy. Answer it!"

"It… it kinda sucked— aaah!" he cried when Venger pulled the leash and his penis was strongly yanked. "It was f-fine! It was fine, M-master…"

Venger laughed softly. "It's good that you enjoyed it, because from now on all of your days will be full of such enjoyment."

Eric bit his lips, managing to keep silent. That was how it was going to be indeed, but he couldn't get used to the idea. How did that monster dare to play with his sexuality like that, to desecrate him in such an abominable way?

"Get up."

Eric obeyed. It felt good to stand up after spending the entire day on the floor, but he was certain that returning to his two feet would only carry him more ignominy.

His assumption was correct, as Venger himself proved by ordering him to get closer with a simple nod of his disgusting, one-horned head.

Eric approached slowly. He wasn't surprised when Venger suddenly grabbed him by the neck and forced him to sit on his lap.

"Why are you nervous, Cavalier? You should already be used to this," Venger whispered to his ear.

Eric contained the sob stuck in his throat. How? How the fuck could he get used to be raped?

He winced when he felt the Arch Mage's hand getting between his legs.

"Spread your legs."

Eric did so, awkwardly because Venger was already stroking his penis.

The embarrassed Cavalier glared at the entrance of the throne room, its doors completely opened. Venger was definitely a sick pervert, doing that to him in a place in which everybody could see them. Perhaps they had witnesses. Perhaps there were Orcs, Lizard Men, evil magicians or any kind of creature peeking through the cracks on the wall. And even if they weren't, after an entire day of being exposed as the last link in the humiliation chain, he was certain that there was no doubt left about his function in that castle, a function he would have to perform until his dying day.

He yelped when he felt something big and hard finding its way between his buttocks. How the hell Venger was able to do _that _without removing his large tunic was a mystery he didn't want to find out.

"Ssssh…" Venger hissed to his ear when Eric started to squirm. "Stay still."

Eric closed his eyes and groaned in pain as the invasive organ started to penetrate him. "Ugh… don't… please don't…"

"It's good that you beg. It only arouses me more."

"It… hurts… it hurts so much…"

"But of course it hurts," Venger said, taking him by the neck again and forcing him to twist his head. "It is meant to hurt."

Eric opened his eyes only to close them back again, unable to bear the Arch Mage's glaze, so close to his own. He winced again when Venger started to lick his neck.

"But pain is the beginning of pleasure," Venger continued, never interrupting the labor of his tongue, his hand and his bestial manhood. "But I don't have to tell you that, do I Cavalier? After all, we both know that you will face the beginning of the new day with the remains of your own ecstasy splattered across your thighs."

Eric didn't say a word, he couldn't have done it. It wasn't pain, indeed, the only motivation for his next groan, much more lasting than the previous one.

_To be continued._

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* * *

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_The last scene was inspired on a picture Shoys sent me a while ago. A prrrretty well done picture, I must say! Although there Eric was still clothed, ahem._

_Please don't forget to review. Next update is already rotating in my mind!_


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